


Guns & Cherokee Roses

by Noenoe



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Child Abuse, Child Neglect, Crazy Shane Walsh, Kid Daryl Dixon, Multi, Past Child Abuse, Torture
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-09
Updated: 2018-03-04
Packaged: 2019-01-31 06:55:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 9
Words: 54,369
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12676698
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Noenoe/pseuds/Noenoe
Summary: Daryl Dixon is a nine year old boy in the care of his older brother Merle when the world ended. When Merle is suddenly gone from his life, who will care and love this little redneck?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The Walking Dead and all its crazy wonderful characters, sadly, do not belong to me. I only like to play with them. They do however belong to an evil genius by the name of Robert Kirkman.

“… if you and every other pair of boobs on this planet…”

Rick listened to Shane gripe about his latest girlfriend, soon to be ex by the sound of it, and tuned him out. After all these years he got used to Shane’s obsession with a new girl. For the first few weeks Shane would treat the girl like a princess, then he’d start finding fault with everything she does, finally after humiliating her enough, he would kick her to the curb and find his next obsession.

Shane Walsh’s voice droned on and Rick wished he would just grow a pair and tell Shane to shut the fuck up. He had enough of his own problems with Lori. These days she channelled Shane, finding fault with him and everything he does. If he speaks his mind, she tells him to shut up. If he keeps quiet and let her rant, she would bitch that he doesn’t speak. If he cuts down on his hours at the station, just so he can spend more time with her and Carl, she would complain about the money (or lack thereof), when he takes on more shifts, she complains that he is a terrible husband and an absent father.

“So how’s it with Lori, man?”

Rick realized that Shane stopped bitching about his girlfriend and moved on to the marital problems of the Grimes’.

“She’s good. She’s good at turning off lights. Really good. I’m the one who sometimes forgets”

Rick hopes Shane would let it drop. He does not want to talk about his problems with Lori. Shane insists, so Rick tells Shane about their latest fight, just this morning. How Lori told him, knowing full well that Carl was in the room, hearing everything, that she believes that he does not care about them, about their child, about their marriage.

A call came over the radio. Whilst Shane answered the call, Rick dumped their unfinished lunch and with squealing tyres, rushed towards the roadblock.

TWD TWD TWD

Rick could hear beeping in the background. Memories flashed in time with the beeping of the machine.

…Rick and Shane jumping out of their cruiser to lay the highway carpet, before joining the other cops at the road block…

…A car approaching at high speed, hell bent on ignoring the roadblock and ramming them…

…Tyres bursting as soon as the car ran over the highway carpet…

…The car rolled three times, before ending in the field at the side of the road…

…Rick and Shane approached the vehicle, guns drawn…

…One man shot Rick. Jesus, that hurts, luckily his vest caught the bullet, but goddamn it burns…

…The two fugitives taken out by Shane and the other cops…

…Rick rising shakily. Begging Shane not to tell Lori. She does not need to know, this will only give her something else to complain about…

…What the fuck Shane? Why slap me so hard on the back…

…Shane drawing his weapon and firing…

…Shane dropping to his knees next to Rick…

…Shane yelling for somebody to call an ambulance…

…Shane begging him to hold on, just hold on…

…Shane grabbing Rick’s hand, whispering “Hang in there brother.” …

…Shane putting flowers on his bedside table. Pretty flowers in a pretty blue vase. Telling him who gave what…

Rick opened his eyes, his voice hoarse, “I like the flowers.”

Nobody answered him. Shane was just here, he just placed the damn flowers on his bedside table. Looking to his right, Rick frowned. The flowers were not just wilted, they were dead. Rick closed his eyes, shook his head, opened them again. The flowers, which Shane brought not five minutes ago, was still dead.

For a moment Rick thought he was going crazy, then he realized the hospital was too silent. There was no noise. Even if there was a power shortage, the hospital had generators. And even if the generators failed, he should still have heard doctors, nurses, orderlies, other patients. With shaky legs, Rick stumbled towards the bathroom, drinking his fill from the tap. He struggled to open the door to his room. Somebody shoved a gurney against the door, blocking the entrance.

Stumbling he saw double doors chained and barricaded. A message was scrawled on the doors “DO NOT OPEN. DEAD INSIDE.” Before Rick could approach the door and try to see what was behind it, the door slowly creaked open, well as far as it could open, several rotting hands, some with the flesh stripped from the bones, curled around the doors. With a curse Rick fled the hospital.

It was dark when Rick came to. He remembered his mad dash from the hospital, the dead bodies stacked at the back of the hospital, stealing a kid’s bike, rushing into his home. He remembers his frantic search for Lori and Carl. He remembers sinking to the ground, the stumbling figure, the black man putting a gun to the figure’s head and firing. He remembers the child, and his own garbled “Carl”. He remembers the flat end of a shovel and then nothing.

TWD TWD TWD

Six long weeks. That was the time it took Rick to heal properly. He was going to miss Morgan and his son Duane. But Morgan promised to join him as soon as he’s taken care of his wife. The friends parted company, Rick was off to Atlanta, sure that he would find Carl and Lori there, whilst Morgan and Duane stayed behind, with a promise that they would join him soon.

Somewhere along the road to Atlanta, Rick was forced to shoot what was once a little girl. It damn near broke his heart. She was just a bit younger than Carl was. Shuffling amongst the cars, still dragging a dirty teddy bear in her left hand.

He was forced to abandon his cruiser. The pile-up stretched from pavement to pavement. Damn car was empty in any case. So he removed the picture of his family from the visor, grabbed his two bags, one filled with guns and ammo, the other with rations. It felt as if Christmas came early when he found the horse.

He should have realized something was wrong. Atlanta belonged to the dead. He made a few mistakes during his entrance into Atlanta.

First he did it on horseback. The sound of the horse’s hooves sounded like gunshots in the silence.

Then he saw the helicopter and instead of keeping his eyes on the ground he stared like an idiot after the helicopter, spurring the horse to follow the helicopter.

Which led to him nearly crashing into a horde of walkers, the horse being ripped to pieces and him trapped in a tank with a dead-ish soldier. Sure he had his bag full of guns and ammo, but the amount of walkers were much more than the ammo in his possession and the noise from the gunshots would only draw in more walkers. Hopefully the walkers would forget about him and wander away, allowing him to escape.

A tinny voice over the radio nearly gave him a heart attack.

“Hey you. Dumbass. Yeah, you in the tank. Cosy in there?”

TWD TWD TWD

Glenn Rhee could not believe his luck. In the past he always came to Atlanta on his own. With no problems. In and out. The geeks did not even know he was there. Then Shane Walsh convinced him to bring a group. We’ll get a bigger haul, he said. It’ll be easy, he said. Stupid prick and his stupid ideas will get him killed. There’s been problems before they even left the camp.

First Morales complained because Merle Dixon was going to Atlanta. Glenn agreed to take Merle Dixon, he may be big, but he could be silent when there was a need.

Then Jacqui started complaining about all the crackers in the group and how she will not be the only minority in the group. Stupid cow, they were all minorities now. The geeks were the majority and they sure as shit did not care what the colour of your skin was.

So T-Dog joined the group. Just so that Jacqui may have the same ethnical company. T-Dog was a nice man, easy to get along with, always eager help and please, but damn he was loud and clumsy.

Then Andrea bitched about getting designer sunglasses for her and Amy. Glenn contemplated feeding himself to the geeks. He decided against it when Merle Dixon turned on his I’m-Just-An-Ignorant-Racist-Redneck act. Called her sugar tits, asked her to suck his dick. That got Ms Civil Rights Attorney in a right huff.

Glenn was probably the only one in the camp who saw right through the Dixons and their act. The idiots back at the camp only saw what they wanted. The moment they saw the truck, Merle’s tattoos and heard him speak, they decided he was just another good ol’ boy, ready to grab his white hooded cloak and started torching crosses and hanging minorities from the nearest tree branch. The Dixons never saw fit to tell them different.

Glenn liked them because Merle never asked for anything for himself when he went to scavenge. He would however ask Glenn to bring back some candy for Daryl, only if he happens to stumble across some. When handed over the treats, both Dixons would thank him as if he gave one of them his left kidney. Glenn always made sure to bring back some candy for Daryl and cigarettes for Merle.

But, given the cluster fuck this trip turned out to be, something went wrong. Somewhere along the line Merle lost his mind. Glenn saved the dumbass in the tank and whilst they were going back to the roof, somebody started shooting from the rooftop. Both he and Rick Grimes ran up the stairs, only to find Merle Dixon to be the guilty party.

He seemed totally unhinged. Andrea whispered to Glenn and Rick that she saw Merle, he took something. It must have been drugs, because it was a white powder. Things turned ugly and in the end Rick handcuffed Merle to the roof. Since Rick was a cop before, he knew which signs to look for and Merle Dixon was seriously tripping.

Merle’s screaming and shooting really riled the geeks up and more flocked to the building, pushing against the glass doors. The outer set already sported a hairline crack and soon enough their little hideaway was going to be their tomb.

“What about going underneath them? Through the sewers?”

Glenn really did not want to crawl through Atlanta’s sewer system, but it beats getting ripped to pieces. He checked all sides of the building and was not really surprised when he noticed the only manhole was on the side where all the damn walkers were.

Jacqui suddenly realized the walkers really do not give one flying fuck whether their meals were white, black, yellow or green. She nearly ripped Glenn’s arm from his shoulder trying to get his attention.

“Some of the older buildings in Atlanta have direct access to the sewer system in their basements. This building seems old enough, so maybe…”

“Are you sure Ma’am?”

“Yes I’m sure. Before … I worked at the municipal offices.”

 

Just like Jacqui predicted, there was an access point to the sewer system, Everybody rushed to the opening, wanting to escape the building.

“We need to make sure the way is clear. This is an unknown tunnel. I’ve never went into the sewers before, so I don’t know if it is clear. I’ll take one of you with me, if the way is clear, we’ll come back for you. If not, the two of us can beat a hasty retreat.”

Rick volunteered to go with Glenn.

“No Officer Friendly. I’ve seen you shoot. It’s better if you stay up top, protect the rest of the group.” Glenn motioned to Andrea, “And you too. You have the other gun.”

Besides Glenn really did not want Andrea in the tunnels with him. She would only bitch about the smell and if there was geeks down there, silence was the keyword.

In the end Glenn and Morales descended into the subbasement. At least it did not smell, but it was still early days. They crept silently. The tunnels were clear. Glenn was getting hopeful. This was going to work, they could just make their escape through the sewer system.

This is the way the world works now. The moment you think the future was rosy again, reality reared its ugly head and bit you in the ass. Of course there would be a grate spanning the tunnel. There was a door, but it was locked. Even if they used Dale’s hacksaw they would all have died of old age before even sawing through one of the bars.

Morales wanted to go back, grab the hacksaw and take a shot at it. That was when the first geek showed up. At least it was on the other side of the bars, but it just proved to Glenn that even the sewer system were not safe. Bubonic plague was the least of their worries. Not that he saw any rats in the tunnels.

The group was now stuck on the rooftop. Trying to think of a plan that would not end in their gruesome deaths. Merle was still handcuffed to the roof, swearing up a storm. Rick suddenly turned around.

“Glenn, are those two walkers still in the alley?”

Glenn rushed to the other side of the building, looking down, “Yeah, they’re still there.”

Rick’s plan was sick, horrible and gruesome. It was crazy enough, so it may just work. T-Dog and Morales donned protective gear, rushed from the building bashing the two walkers’ heads in before dragging them back inside.

The group, minus Merle who was still handcuffed to the rooftop, stood in a circle around the two completely dead walkers.

“We’ve got a problem. The walkers will destroy the glass doors and we will either all die stuck on the roof or ripped to pieces. Ten blocks from here is a constructions site, with vehicles. Those vehicles’ keys are always on site. The problem we face is getting from here to there. We can’t shoot our way out, as the gunfire will only draw more walkers. We can’t go underneath them, since the way is blocked and the tunnels are filled with walkers in any case. Our only solution is to walk right past them. They don’t attack each other, because they smell dead. So my suggestion is hiding ourselves, and walk right past them to the construction site. Glenn I’m going to need your help. We’ll cover ourselves with the guts and blood from these two walkers, slip past the walkers in the street, and liberate a vehicle or two. We’ll come back for the rest of you. I’ve noticed a loading dock, the rest of you go to the loading dock, wait for our signal and we’ll pick you up.”

The plan was sound, the execution thereof was gruesome. The act of chopping the two walkers to pieces were nearly too much for Glenn. Rick suggested that he think of something else. Jackie suggested that he think of kittens and puppies. T-Dog offered, “Yeah, dead kittens and puppies.”

That was it. That image was the straw that broke the camel’s back. Glenn vomited noisily to the side. Jackie huffed.

“What the hell is the matter with you? Next time, I’m gonna let that cracker beat your ass.”

 

Glenn and Rick shuffled down the street. Some walkers sniffed at them, but were seemingly satisfied. They smelled dead enough. Glenn kept shooting nervous glances at the sky. Of all the days they would get rain. They kept shuffling. They were going to make it. Then the first fat raindrop fell rain between Glenn’s eyes.

Oh shit.

One rain drop became two then three. Then the heavens opened.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

“Hey Rick. Do you think the smell is washing off?”

“No. Just keep walking.”

But Rick was also worried, he kept looking at the reactions of the walkers around them.

“Maybe, but we’re nearly there.”

It became painfully clear that the walkers were smelling something. They were starting to smell Rick and Glenn. They were starting to smell supper. They ventured closer to the two men. One of them sniffed deeply and lunged towards them. Rick swung his axe, taking the thing’s head clean of.

“Run!”

The walkers were snapping at their heels. Rick and Glenn scaled the chain-link fence, but Rick lost his axe, Glenn ran towards a box truck, while Rick went after the keys. The third key proved to be the one they were looking for. With squealing tires the two men made their escape.

They finally lost the horde. Rick stopped next to a bright red Ford Mustang.

“Glenn, I hate to do this to you, but we need a diversion. Otherwise we will never be able to rescue the other people stuck in that building.”

Glenn really had a sinking feeling.

“What kind of diversion?”

“I just need you to drive this car, first to the building, lead the walkers away and make sure they follow you. The moment you got them away from the building, I will be able to fetch our people. We’ll meet back up at your camp.”

 

TWD TWD TWD

Lori Grimes gathered the women together, Andrea and Jacqui went with Glenn into Atlanta. Jacqui went because she knew the city, Andrea went because she wanted to prove she had a bigger set of balls than all the men in the camp.

“Good morning ladies. Since we finished all our chores yesterday, we can just relax today. Hopefully we’ll get some fresh meat soon, but we still have some canned meat left.” Lori smiled and gave the women her custom little pep talk. Lori was all talk, telling the women “we need to…” without ever including herself in the working group. She was good at delegating the chores. She saw no need in cooking meals, cleaning the camp, washing clothes or foraging for food. Carl cleaned the tent they were sleeping in, children needed chores, it taught them responsibility.

Finishing her pep talk, she wandered over to the fire pit, grabbing a plate and serving herself some breakfast. She liked it when Eliza Morales or Carol cooked. The other three women were useless.

Since she and Shane were flirting, Lori grabbed her scissors and started to cut Carl’s hair. Shane promised to teach Carl how to catch frogs. Maybe somebody could try and catch some fish to, somebody not a Dixon. The depended too much on the Dixons for fresh meat. She did not like those two hicks. She also suspected Daryl knew about her and Shane, she knew Shane fucked Andrea on occasion, but it was only to keep the uppity bitch in line. She needed to be the grieving widow, soon she would however be free to find comfort in the arms of her dearly departed husband’s best friend.

Glancing at the watch on her wrist she grabbed the pail, telling Carl to stay at the camp and informed Dale, another nosy old bastard, that she was going to look for mushrooms. She went each day to look for mushrooms, sometimes she even came back with mushrooms. 

The woods were silent. The only sounds Lori heard were her own footsteps. At least she found a few mushrooms today. She was not too sure if they were poisonous or not, but Shane can check. At least if she shows up with some mushrooms the other women would stop giving her those looks. 

A grimy hand clapped over Lori’s mouth, stifling the scream. Her first thought was “Merle” before remembering that the stupid redneck went with the group to Atlanta. Then she thought “walker”, before mentally slapping herself. Walkers won’t cover your mouth so you would not scream. Twisting around, she saw her lovers grinning at her.

The two lovers could not decide if they wanted to keep on kissing or continue removing their clothes. Grunting and grabbing the two were naked and rolling around on the ground. Shane shoved in hard. Lori liked it hard and near violent. Rick was too much of a gentleman. Always preparing her, moving gently within her. That was not what she wanted. She wanted to feel it. She wanted to be taken hard. She wanted to be sore from her coupling. 

Lori and Shane had been in love since high school, but since the Grimes family was rich and the Walsh family poor, they decided that Lori should date Rick, marry him and get knocked up by him. She would divorce him and take him for every penny he was worth.

Unfortunately Rick’s parents insisted on a watertight prenuptial, which would result in Lori walking out of the marriage with only the clothes on her back. The old farts never really trusted her and pegged her for a gold digger from the start. Rick may have been top dog in everything else, but the bastard was shooting blanks, so Shane stepped up and soon enough Lori was pregnant. The ignorant bastard cried when Carl was born, cooing over his boy.

Lori and Shane started planning the death of Rick Grimes, preferably in the line of duty, with Shane being the hero cop who shot and killed Rick’s attacker, valiantly trying to save his brother’s life. Nobody would wink an eye if, after an appropriate time, Lori found happiness in the arms of Shane Walsh.

They thought they hit jackpot when Rick was shot, and hovered at the brink of death. Two damn months he was in a coma, circling the drain. Then the world went to shit, the dead did not stay dead and they had to flee to Atlanta to the lauded refugee centre. Now she was stuck in the mud outside Atlanta. On paper she was a very rich woman, the money, the properties, bonds and investments. In reality she had jack shit since the world went belly up. 

TWD TWD TWD

Rick was really pleased. The pick-up went off without a hitch. Morales sat next to him in the cab, while the rest of the group sat in the back.

Rick took a glance in the back. Glenn was on his way to the camp in the Mustang, Morales was next to him. Jackie was sitting next to Andrea on the one side of the truck. T-Dog sprawled on the other side. Everybody was safe…

Wait, where was Dixon?

“Where’s Dixon? He got bit?”

T-Dog looked guilty. He gulped a few times before stuttering.

“I panicked. The walkers were breaking through the door, we heard Glen distracting the horde and then you were at the landing bay. I rushed and on my way to unlock Dixon I dropped the key.”

“And?”

“The damn thing fell down a drainage pipe. Dixon is still there. Handcuffed to the roof. I did lock the door to the roof though. Those things won’t get to him. He’s still there…”

Andrea offered a quick, “At least we got your bags with guns and ammo. Besides, no one will miss that piece of shit Dixon.”

T-Dog sighed, “Daryl will”

Rick listened to the conversation in the back. He felt bad about leaving the man chained on the roof like some animal and would not have driven off had he known.

“Who’s Daryl?”

Andrea answered with a snort, “Merle little brother. He went off hunting while Merle came with us to Atlanta. Nobody wanted him there, you saw him, he is out of control and a troublemaker, but he forced himself to come. Daryl is cut from the same cloth.”

The rest of the trip to their camp was in silence. Rick wondered if he would ever find his wife and son. The safe haven of Atlanta turned out to be a pipe dream. He’ll rest a few days with this group, before setting out, trying to find his family.

 

TWD TWD TWD

 

Shane was irritated with that stupid Korean kid. He stopped at the camp in a bright red car with the car alarm blaring. Does everybody around him have shit for brains? The stupid little shit just let every dead thing know where to get fresh meat. Glenn made some have assed excuse about not knowing how to shut down the alarm, lame assurances that everybody was fine and vague illusions to some new guy he met in Atlanta. Shane was not interested, he wanted to hear about Merle Dixon. Was Andrea successful in slipping him the drugs? Hopefully the hick overdosed and died, but he would settle if the man became unstable. This would give credence to his stories of the supposed racist remarks and threats of violence which he fed the rest of the idiots.

A white cube truck stopped and members of their group started piling out. First came Andrea, she gave a nod and wink in Shane’s direction before rushing off to find her sister. Then Jacqui walking calmly over to the RV. She had no loved ones waiting for her. Morales bounded from the truck, swooping up his family, crying, he thought he would never see them again. After a few seconds came T-Dog. No Dixon, well praise the Lord, something went right for a change.

The cube truck’s door opened slowly. “What the fuck? I gave that stupid cunt one task. Drug the fucking redneck.”

But it was not Merle Dixon who stepped from the truck. As soon as Shane saw Rick Grimes, he wished it was Merle Dixon. His world came tumbling down like a house of cards. He knew both he and Lori had to get their stories straight. At least Merle Dixon was not with them, so hopefully the bastard was dead.

 

Lori sat staring at the flames. Of all the rotten luck, once again she had to pretend to love her husband.

Andrea told them about the mess in Atlanta, “And then Merle just went apeshit. Popping of shots with the rifle, cussing and threatening all of us. That man is a danger to our camp, I don’t care how good a hunter he is.”

The longer the night went on, the wilder the stories grew that Shane, Lori and Andrea fed Rick. Glenn left the campfire in disgust, cursing himself for his cowardice, but he knew if he spoke in Merle’s defence Shane would make sure that he would have himself a little accident. Besides who else is going to look after Daryl?

By the end of the night, Rick was convinced not to go back to Atlanta and rescue Merle. On one level he knew it was wrong to leave a man to die of thirst and exposure, if he is lucky, or if he’s unlucky being ripped to shreds by the walkers if they found a way onto the roof. But Shane and Lori would never lie to him and he trusted them completely. Merle Dixon is unstable and volatile and starts fights with all the men in the camp. He tried to rape Carol Peletier and when her husband Ed stepped in, Merle Dixon beat him within an inch of his life. Not only is he a drunk, but uses drugs as well. Leaving him to rot on that rooftop was in his mind a small mercy, if he had known then what Merle Dixon was like, he would have hamstringed the bastard and fed him to the walkers.

Shane cleared his throat, he knew he now had to convince Rick to break up camp and go either towards Fort Benning or the CDC. If Merle frees himself, he’ll come for his brother and then he would cause the damage and mayhem they accused him of.

“Rick, we need to leave this camp. It is not exactly safe. Sure during the day we can see for miles, but at night? We are vulnerable here. And most of all there is only one road in and out from camp. I heard the CDC is still functioning and that Fort Benning is still safe,” feeling generous, he offered “your choice brother, CDC or Fort Benning.”

Rick was quiet for a moment. Fort Benning was closer to their current location, but at the CDC they would have a chance at better medical treatment and if they are working on either a vaccine against the virus or a cure, they would be first in line to receive treatment.

“You know, I felt bad about leaving a man like that. Trapped on the roof like some dumb animal dying of thirst and exposure. I really hoped it was only one bad call on his part, but listening to you about how he really is, then I say, leave him there. Let the bastard suffer.

We break up camp tomorrow morning, at first light. I think the CDC would be a safer bet. I know Fort Benning is closer, but the scientists would be working on a cure at the CDC. That’s the place I want my wife and child, all the children in our camp to be.

And regarding the other Dixon. If Daryl poses the same problems as Merle, I will cut him loose and leave him behind. I will not tolerate drug users, murderers, rapists, thieves and racists anywhere near my wife and child.”

Shane really had to hide his satisfied smirk. He got rid of Merle Dixon and knew the moment he met Daryl, he would not just cut him loose and leave him to fend for himself, but he will never trust the bastard.

Early the next morning the camp broke apart. Morales told Rick he and his family won’t be joining them, they were leaving.

“Listen man. I’m glad you found your family. It really made me think. If there was ever time to spend with your family, it is now. We have some family up in Birmingham and we want to head that way. Family should stick together.”

He turned to leave, his wife and kids were already in the car. 

“Morales! Here, I know it’s not much, but it is at least something.”

Rick handed the man a pistol and a few clips. Morales deserved more than just a pistol and a few clips, but he had to think of the whole group. He was sure that Morales and his family would be able to scrounge up their own weapons.

With a final wave the Morales family was gone.

Not long after the Morales family drove off a small child stomped into the camp, yelling:

“Merle! Merle! Get your ugly butt out here! I killed a deer, but the bastard’s too heavy.”

Mouth agape, Rick stared at the scruffy little boy. That could not be Daryl Dixon?

“Shane, who the hell is the boy?”

Shane shrugged, “It’s Daryl Dixon. Remember we told you about him…”

“Yeah, but you said he went off hunting so I expected him a bit older than this.”

“Shit, sorry Rick. I thought I told you. The little bastard is nine, well according to Merle he’s nine. I doubt if he can read and write. You know those hillbilly rednecks. When they arrived here, Carl was so glad. Hoped he found another little boy to play with. Daryl over there spat at Carl, pulling his knife on him and warning him to stay away as he won’t be playing with a pansy boy. It damn near broke Carl’s heart.

He is near feral, only listens to Merle, but I can get through to him. Finish packing, I’ll go and have a talk with Daryl Dixon. I’ll take responsibility for him, tame him and raise him right.”

“I hope you do Shane. Hopefully you can get him to behave like a human being and not like a Dixon. But you understand why I just can’t cut him loose? No matter what, he is still a child.”

TWD TWD TWD

If anyone would have bothered to ask Daryl Dixon, he would have told him his life started at age seven.

From the day his was born his parents made sure to tell him he was nothing but a burden. A child they neither planned for nor wanted. At the time of his birth his brother Merle already celebrated his twentieth birthday. Merle loved him and wanted him, but he never saw enough of Merle. As soon as Merle graduated from high school he joined the army, every opportunity however he would come home and spend time with his baby brother.

The only good thing Will Dixon ever did for his second child was to teach Daryl how to hunt and survive in the wild. Will Dixon did it so that Daryl could start to earn his keep, Daryl enjoyed it because it took him away from home.

Shortly after Daryl’s fifth birthday, Darla Dixon got drunk and high on a deadly cocktail of Will’s bootleg moonshine and meth from Will’s private stash. She fell asleep on her bed with a jug of moonshine in the one hand and a cigarette in the other. It was one of those rare days where Daryl was neither hunting nor being beaten by either his parents. He slipped out of the house early the morning and wandered around town looking to perform odd jobs. Some old ladies gave him money for helping them cross the road or carrying their bags.

By the time Daryl made it home, there was nothing left but a pile of wood, blackened by the smoke and fire and still wet. Will Dixon was very disappointed that Daryl was still alive and made his displeasure known.

Will and Daryl moved into their old cabin in the woods and for the next two years Will Dixon made his displeasure of the survival of Daryl known and would have continued for many years more, if not for the birthday of Daryl and a surprise visit from Merle.

Daryl’s body was littered with scars and bruises. Sure he obtained some of the scars whilst hunting, like the one on his hand where he accidently nicked himself with his hunting knife, but the majority came from Will Dixon’s feet, fists, teeth and big leather belt. Will Dixon never was cut out to be a father. He got Darla pregnant in their junior year. Both sets of parents forced the teenage couple to get married and raise their child.

Whilst Darla never lifted her hand to beat Merle, she never lifted a hand to help him either. She spent her days drinking moonshine, smoking anything that is remotely smoke-able and watching her daytime soaps. Merle Dixon grew up to be just as tall and strong as Will and soon enough Will stopped beating him, well since the moment Merle punched him right back.

Merle Dixon graduated and joined the army. For close to three years he never visited his parents. Until five months after his twentieth birthday when a drunken Will called to inform Merle that Darla had a surprise baby and he was now the older brother of Daryl.

The moment Merle met his baby brother he fell in love with the kid. He promised to do anything in his power to keep him happy. For seven years Merle tried to gain custody of his brother. Finally they had enough proof, Daryl was removed from the clutches of Will Dixon and Merle granted primary custody of his brother.

Until the world went belly-up Daryl lived with Merle at the army base, totally flourishing under the care and love he received.

When the first dead started walking the Dixon brothers was deep in the woods. Merle knew he should head back to base and do his duty as a soldier, but his duty as a brother came first. So for the first time since joining the Army he abandoned his post and ran with Daryl.

They watched in silence whilst the Army bombed Atlanta, trying in vain to curb the walkers. They left towards Fort Benning and was once again silent witnesses to the death and destruction at the base. 

They should have known. At first people were warned to stay off the streets and stay at home. When more homes started to fall, they were ushered towards shelters. Churches, schools and town halls were converted into shelters. However, soon enough sport stadiums and military bases were utilized as refugee centres. But the influx of survivors were too great and the virus spread in those melting pots at an alarming rate. One after the other the refugee camps and military bases fell.

Merle decided they would hole up at the quarry for a few days, before heading out to Will Dixon’s house. It was remote, easily defendable and they could rest there before finding someplace safe. Instead they found Shane and his group. 

Daryl was so happy to see the other kids. He loved his brother. Merle was not only his brother, but his best friend and his father. But he craved the company of other kids. Kids who would still love at fart jokes. Kids he can be a child with. What they found was a hostile group of people. Shane quickly warned Daryl to stay the hell away from the other children.

“Listen here boy. I know your type and these other four kids. They are good kids. They don’t mix with your kind. Now I’m not telling you and your brother to leave, but I am telling you. Stick with your brother. Go hunt with him. He bragged enough how you two would hunt for the group.”

Daryl stuck like glue to Merle. Dale was friendly enough towards him. Trying to get him to play with the other kids, but Daryl kept seeing Shane’s face. Shane reminded him too much of Will Dixon. That man was just as mean as a rattlesnake. He might seem kind and friendly, but underneath was something hard and dark. This was not the kind of man that allowed anybody to cross him.

Lori Grimes pranced around camp. Never doing anything except gathering mushrooms. Growing up with Will and Darla Dixon, Daryl knew from a very young age what men and women really did. If the mood for sex struck those two, they would fuck like rabbits where ever the mood took them. Daryl lost count the number of times they went at it whilst he was still in the same room. Later, after Darla burned herself to death, Will brought home a variety of women. Some were prostitutes, some were just plain whores and some were women who believed that they will be the one to tame Will Dixon and make an honest man of him.

Will Dixon broke every woman he had his grimy paws on. Merle did not think Will survived. According to him, Merle laid out the welcome mat for every disease out there. Daryl was not too sure what Merle was talking about, but it sounded just about right.

Daryl saw Lori and Shane going at it in the woods. He heard the stories around camp. How Lori’s husband passed away a few weeks ago. He heard Lori telling Dale how much she missed her husband, how much she love him. How she don’t think she would ever be able to love somebody else. Ten minutes later, she was having sex with Shane. Daryl was afraid that Shane and Lori knew that he knew about them. That made him extra cautious around the man.

Ed Peletier also made Daryl wary. Every so often, Ed would get this look on his face. Maybe Carol brought his coffee a second too late, maybe Sophia laughed at one of the other kids’ jokes. With every passing hour the man’s face grew darker and come night time, he and Merle would hear Ed beating his wife. Merle tried to stop it once, he stepped in and broke up the fight. He was getting ready to punch Ed in the face, when Shane showed up. The bastard took his shotgun and pointed it straight at the back of Merle’s head. Daryl could hear the hissing from Shane, but the next moment Merle dropped Ed, came back to their tent and told Daryl to get to sleep.

The next morning Merle took Daryl aside, “Listen Daryl. Stay away from the people in the camp, especially Ed and Shane. We’ll be leaving soon. I promised Glenn I would go with him on his next run into Atlanta. When we come back from the city, you and I will be leaving. Promise me that you will leave the camp while I’m gone. Go hunting or something, just stay away for four days.”

“Can Glenn come with us?”

Merle smiled at his younger brother. Damn, he loved the kid. “I’ll ask him. He might not want to leave Dale, but I’ll ask. Now, promise me you’ll go hunting the moment we leave.”

“I promise Merle. I’ll go hunting. I’ll stay away from the camp for four days. And then we leave. Did Shane say something?”

Merle did not want to tell Daryl. The kid had enough to worry about, he won’t burden him with Shane Walsh and his threats.

The moment Merle and Glenn left, Daryl grabbed his gear, slipping into the woods. He could hear Shane yelling that he best come back, but Daryl ignored the cop. Merle told him to stay away and he promised Merle.

The first two days, Daryl found nothing. No trace of even a lone squirrel, the third morning however, he bagged one squirrel after the other and that was when he saw the deer. They would have enough meat between the two of them for a long time, even if they gave the majority of the meat away. Daryl could not understand the people back at camp. They all pulled their kids away when they came near them, he could hear them calling the Dixons nothing but white trash, but the moment the Dixon brothers returned from a hunt, they would grab the meat. Not even saying thank you. They had a shitload of canned food, but they never even shared one can with him and Merle. But still Merle shared the meat with them. He would never allow the women and children to go hungry.

The damn deer got spooked the moment Daryl pulled the trigger. His bow gun was his pride and joy. It was the only damn thing worth something Will Dixon ever gave Daryl and this beauty kept hunger at bay. Instead of a nice clean shot, he only wounded the damn deer. It would die eventually, but it meant Daryl had to track the damn thing. The number of walkers in the woods also increased. He should tell Merle. If they were leaving they should at least warn the others that their campsite would not be safe for much longer.

At least the stupid deer fled in the direction of the camp and the thing finally died within sight of the camp. Daryl could hear Morales speaking to his family and so Daryl knew the group was back from Atlanta. Meaning Merle was back. And if Merle was back, he could help Daryl with the deer. The sooner they skinned and slaughtered the animal, the sooner they could leave.

Daryl stomped into the camp, calling his brother, “Merle! Merle! Get your ugly butt out here! I killed a deer, but the bastard’s too heavy.”

The group all stared at him, as if he grew an extra head or something. Glenn kept looking away, Dale nervously tinkered with the RV and Walsh and some new guy stared at him. The new guy seemed shock at the sight of Daryl Dixon.

The moment Shane Walsh came over, Daryl knew. He just knew. Merle was not here. They would not be leaving the camp. They would not be going back the old hunting cabin. He was all alone in a dangerous world and the only people around him hated him and would leave him to fend for himself.

 

TWD TWD TWD

 

Shane took hold of Daryl, clamping his big right hand over Daryl’s left arm. Later Daryl would inspect the bruises left by his fingers, but right at the moment, he was numb. 

He could see they were breaking up the camp. They were leaving and Merle was not here. Merle was never coming back and he was all alone. He was tough as nails, he was Dixon, but he was still only nine years old. He wanted Merle, he needed him. Nobody ever cared about Daryl Dixon, only Merle. Was Shane going to tell him that they would be leaving him behind? He did not belong to anybody in the group after all. Morales and his family already left. Maybe Glenn would take him, but Glenn was also just a kid and besides Dale took Glenn and Andrea and Amy in. So Dale would not take Daryl, no matter what Glenn said. And he’d rather stay alone than have Shane or Lori or Ed take him in.

“Dixon, you see that man over there? That man is Rick Grimes, my best friend and Carl’s daddy. Now I see you may wonder what it has to do with anything and why your brother is not here. Your brother tried to murder everybody back in Atlanta. Luckily Rick found the group and stopped your psycho brother. Now, Rick did not kill Merle, even though it would have been justified, but he was left behind when the dead broke through their defences. He will not be coming back. Now we have ourselves a little problem, don’t we Daryl? What to do with you? Nobody wants you. Who can blame them? You would as soon slit our throats in our sleep than smile at us. Everybody wanted to leave you behind, but I convinced them that I would take you in. You better mind me now, boy. There will be no more running wild. You won’t be allowed your weapons. When I give you an order, you best hop to it. If you want a safe place to sleep and some food in your belly, you will do your part. I’ll allow you to go out hunting, because if you want to eat you better be contributing to the food supply. If you don’t go hunting, you won’t get fed. If you return without any meat, you don’t get fed. You stay away from Carl and Sophia, they don’t need to be exposed to the likes of you. Nod if you understand everything I told you.”

 

Daryl could only nod. He really had no other choice at the moment. If he refuses to budge, Shane will make sure the group leaves and they will take Merle’s truck (it was not as if he could drive away in it) and they will leave him without his weapons. He will be able to survive without a vehicle, but he’ll definitely struggle without his weapons. 

Glenn tried to talk to him, but Shane kept Glenn away from Daryl. Ten minutes later they were all in their vehicles, Shane stripped his jeep bare, leaving only the bare bones of the vehicle. 

Most of the other families decided to follow the Morales’ lead and decided to search for any remaining family they may have left. The group going to the CDC was, Rick Grimes, his wife Lori and son Carl. Ed Peletier, his abused wife Carol and wraithlike daughter Sophia. The Harrison sisters, Andrea and Amy. Dale Horvath. Glenn Rhee. Jaqcui Washington. Jim Patrick. Theodore “T-Dog” Douglas. Shane Walsh and of course Daryl Dixon.

Most of the supplies were loaded into the cube truck. Rick Grimes and his family claimed the vehicle. Dale drove his RV, with Glenn riding shotgun and the Harrison sisters in the back. Ed Peletier loaded his family in their station wagon. T-Dog, Jim and Jacqui hopped into T-Dog’s double cab. Shane claimed Merle’s truck, loading the spare parts he stripped from his jeep before pushing Daryl into the truck. The small caravan left the quarry, with only Daryl looking back to the place where he lost his only family. They should have left earlier. Merle never should have gone to Atlanta.


	2. Chapter 2

The trip to the CDC was painful for Daryl. He kept looking around, hoping to see Merle. They did not even let Daryl keep Merle’s bike. Merle promised him that he would teach Daryl how to ride the bike. Now it was gone, just like Merle. Left behind at the quarry. Walsh would not even allow Daryl to cover the bike in the tarp. He just left it there. Out in the open. Left to rust.

Shane glanced at the boy beside him. He will tame this little shit. In the end, Daryl Dixon will bow down to his will. Daryl does not quite know it yet, but he will be the group’s whipping boy. Every time something goes wrong, Daryl will be punished. Every time the group goes hungry, Daryl will be punished. The sooner the little redneck understood his place in the group, the better. It was not as if he was like the rest of them. There were people and then there were people and then there were rednecks.

Halfway to the CDC, their little caravan snagged their first obstacle. The RV sputtered and died on them. A hissing sound was heard coming from the engine. The men all formed a cordon around the RV, while the women and children were safely hidden inside. Shane told Dixon to stay in the truck.

“What happened?”

Dale sighed. The RV was old and the damn thing broke down all the time. This time it was the radiator hose. He was planning on getting it fixed in Atlanta, but then the world ended. And while he had a damn fine mechanic at his disposal, it was not as if Jim could perform miracles. It was not as if the man could fart and produce the damn hose.

He hated how whiny his voice sounded when he was scared or irritated. But he was old, not yet ancient, but still old. Old people tend to sound whiny sometimes.

“It’s the damn radiator hose. I meant to get the thing fixed in Atlanta, but then the world ended. I hoped the thing would last until we get to the CDC. Now Jim is a mechanic, he can try and patch it up, but what we really need is radiator hose. The one from the cube truck would have worked like a charm, but it is being used.”

Jim was already tinkering with the radiator hose. He stepped back and scratched his head.

“Sorry guys, the hose is dead. No amount of jerry rigging will save it.”

Rick looked up and down the street. 

“OK, we have two options. We abandon the RV or search the area for a suitable radiator hose. Now I don’t want to abandon the RV. We may not be able to stay at the CDC. The RV does have at least some of the amenities we lost the world ended, such as beds and a toilet. Dale also rigged the beast with a solar panel so we at least have a bit of electricity. Shane what do you think? Abandon or try and find a replacement?”

Rick valued Shane’s opinion and friendship. The man may be somewhat of a dog when it came to women and relationships, but his advice always had been sound. He trusted the man not only with his life, but with the lives of his family.

Shane was irritated beyond measure. He just knew the CDC’s going to be a bust, and they needed the RV. The best would be to abandon the RV, but he had a feeling that they were going to need the vehicle. 

“You guys keep a look out. Jim keep on trying with the hose, I’ll take Dixon and scout the area. We may be lucky and find something to fix the problem.”

 

Daryl watched with dread as Walsh came back to Merle’s truck. The look on the man’s face spelled nothing good for him. He may only be nine years old, but that that did not mean he was stupid. And Walsh did warn him that he would be punished for every little thing that went wrong.

“Get out of the fucking truck boy. We will be having a little conversation before we search for a radiator hose.”

Daryl would come to dread having Walsh telling them that they would be having a little conversation. But that morning, he only knew that he would be punished. Daryl was not worried, he was a Dixon. He survived his father’s beatings. What was the worst Walsh could do?

TWD TWD TWD

 

Shane made sure they were out of sight of Dale Horvath’s sharp eyes and that the area was free of any walkers. He hated Lori and Carl being stranded here in the open. He hated that the damn RV broke down. How many times did he tell Dale to get the fucking thing fixed? The fucking road into Atlanta was filled with every vehicle. But no, the useless old fart spent his days on top of the RV, standing sentry and shoving his nose in everybody’s business.

He hated the fact that Rick was back in their lives. Now he and Lori had to sneak around again and with this whole end of the world shit, their chances of sneaking around was over.

He hated that he now had to risk his own life searching for a suitable replacement for the RV’s radiator hose. He wished he could just send Dixon out to find the damn thing, but he was afraid the kid would give him the slip. He will only be able to use the kid as a hunting dog after having been able to train him. 

Besides, he promised the little fucker punishment every time something went wrong for the group. And he was frustrated and needed to vent, before doing something stupid.

The first punch took Daryl by surprise. It was a hard punch in the stomach. Daryl doubled over, sucking in huge gulps of air, trying not to puke. It was the first time, since Merle took him away from their father, that Daryl felt helpless and like a small kid again. Merle always reminded him that he was strong, that he was a survivor and not a victim. With one punch Shane Walsh destroyed everything Merle struggled with.

Before that first punch Daryl believed that he was good, he believed he deserved to be loved, he believed that he deserved to be cared for by adults and to be protected by them. He believed that the way Will treated him was wrong and evil. But Shane punched that right out of Daryl. What was left was the same broken little boy Merle rescued. The one who could take a beating and still be able to go to the damn store and buy his father’s beer and cigarettes. The boy who deep down believed he was not good enough to be loved and that he deserved each and every cruel word and each and every punch, kick and beating the adults around him may dish out.

Shane Walsh used to be a cop and he knew all the tricks of the trade. He knew to leave the boy’s face, neck, arms and legs alone. Those are the parts that may be exposed. If a man wants to discipline his little woman and kids, it was his prerogative. Women and children only listen when the truth gets slapped into them. Smart men aimed their punishment where the little do-gooders in the world can’t see them. One can only walk into so many doorknobs before those nosy biddies start getting suspicious.

Ten minutes later and Shane stepped away from the boy. Somebody trained him good, as he refused to cry and beg. He was struggling to draw his breath and five minutes into the beating he puked his guts out, but as long as the useless little shit keeps his mouth shut and his shirt on, nobody would know what transpired.

“Get your shit together. We still need to find something to replace that fucking RV’s radiator hose.”

Daryl took a moment to compose himself. Nobody must know. People never cared about the likes of Daryl Dixon anyhow. The only person who ever cared enough was Merle and Rick Grimes made sure that Merle would never be able to care about his little brother again. Besides, who would he tell? Who would listen? He was just a Dixon after all. And nobody in the world cared about little rednecks named Daryl Dixon. Rick Grimes would not care. His wife would not care, she would most probably egg Walsh on. T-Dog won’t care, just one less little racist in the world. He would probably enjoy watching Walsh beating the shit out of him. The same goes for Jacqui. The camp all believed they were nothing but rabid racists anyway. Just because they talked and looked different from them, they must be racist, they must be thieves and they must be rapists. He saw how Andrea always made sure Amy was not alone with Merle and him. Ed Peletier would just love it, and why not, he enjoys slapping is wife around and Carol was too afraid to say anything, just as long as Ed keeps his hands of Sophia. Jim spent his days tinkering with every car and missing his family. Dale was too old and besides he kind of adopted Andrea and Amy and would never take in something that frightens the sisters. Glenn was too timid, too afraid of offending anybody. Too afraid that they would leave him behind.

So Daryl did the only thing he could. He straightened himself, took a deep breath and started looking for the part they needed. This was his life now and the two years with Merle seemed like a very nice dream. He escaped the horror that was Will Dixon by pretending somebody would rescue him. He dreamed dreams of a nice family taking him in and caring for him and loving him. His dream family never were rich, but they weren’t trash like Will Dixon. Hell, most of the times his dream parents were poor, but they always had something to eat and there was always love and laughter.

 

TWD TWD TWD

Daryl found another broken down cube truck, Shane removed the radiator hose and Jim could jerry rig the hose to the RV. Soon enough they were on the road again, on their way to the CDC, where Rick Grimes hoped they would find sanctuary and the beginnings of a miracle cure.

If anybody bothered to ask Daryl, he would have told them not to get their hopes up. The new world was cold and cruel and everything died. Afterwards the dead came back and tried to eat you. The world may have been crueler to Daryl, but it did not mean the others would find a pot of gold at the end of the rainbow.

He spent his time dreaming his little dreams. His latest dream family were farmers. A Dad, a Mom, a brother and a sister, maybe even two sisters. He could almost see the old farmhouse, with a barn close by. Maybe a peach tree or two. His new father would teach him how to milk the cows and his new siblings would gently tease him because he did not know how to farm. Dinners would be eaten around this big dining room table and they would laugh and joke. None of the jokes would ever be cruel and he would never be the butt of their cruel jokes. As soon as it was his bedtime, his mother would tuck him in and gently kiss him on the forehead.

Daryl was ripped harshly when Walsh farted loudly and wetly. The stench of the fart filled the cab and Daryl nearly rolled the windows down before he realized the danger. Daryl tried taking small breaths and nearly cried in relief when the small caravan stopped. They were there. They reached the CDC.

 

The area around the building was littered with tents, abandoned vehicles, even a tank and dead rotting corpses. At least they were not coming back as their heads were all blown away. The place seemed dead. There were not even birds in the sky. All the way to the front door they slipped on spent bullet casings. Nobody checked the surrounding area for walker, their attention fixed on the big doors. Doors that were covered by huge metal plates. Probably to ensure the safety of the scientists within. To keep walkers, looters and other survivors out.

 

Rick could see that the group was getting ready to return to their vehicles. They believed everybody was dead. That there was nobody alive inside. He tried one final time. He still believes this is their best option. Fort Benning would have fallen. There would have been too many people taken there and an infected person could have slipped through or they even could have fallen under the sheer mass of attacking walkers. The area around may have been overrun, but the closed shutters gave him hope.

They banged on the shutters, screaming. Lori was jumping up and down, waving her arms, hoping that somebody were watching through the camera.

Rick looked straight into the eye of the camera, begging. 

“Please, please open up. We have women and children here. Nobody is infected. I beg you, please.”

It seemed as if the CDC fell and walkers were trapped on the inside of the building as well.

Shoulders sagging, the women crying, the group turned to leave. They needed to find a safe place for the night and they were too close to the city to be safe. From the corner of his eyes, Rick saw the camera move. Somebody was alive on the inside. He once again started screaming, begging for mercy.

The banging and screaming were drawing the attention of walkers. At first one lone walker came stumbling in their direction. Then another. One became two, two became three, three became five. Their numbers were still small enough so that they could comfortably take them out, but if they stay longer, they would all die on the front steps of the CDC.

Ushering them towards their vehicles, Rick turned around. He believed in the goodness of humanity. He just could not believe that those on the inside would leave them to die, to be ripped to pieces. They were humans after all and not animals. Rick completely forgot about the man he handcuffed to a rooftop, leaving him to die like a trapped animal. Leaving him to die a painful death, either by starvation and thirst or being ripped to pieces by the walkers. But why should he have spared another thought to Merle Dixon. Lori and Shane told him all about the stupid redneck piece of trailer trash shit and they never lied to him.

At first Rick could not place the sound. It seemed like a familiar sound, something he should remember, something from his previous life. It came to him a second later. It was the mechanical sound of metal doors rolling open. A second after he placed the strange sound, the rest of the group also realized that somebody was indeed alive inside and they opened the doors for them.

Daryl suspiciously watched the man in the white lab coat. He seemed as if he used to be a doctor or a scientist, but an automatic weapon was hooked over his left arm. He held the weapon with ease, as if he had been born with the weapon clutched in his arms. He ushered the group into the elevator. Daryl was squashed at the back. Shane stood in next to him, pushing him into the corner, hurting his ribs even more. Daryl kept his mouth shut and his face straight. Will Dixon taught him that a quite Daryl was an unbeaten Daryl.

Shane looked the man up and down, “Since when do doctors go around packing heat like that?”

The scientist kind of huffed, “These days, you would be a fool not too.”

 

Leading them from the elevator he introduced himself. 

“The name is Jenner and the price of admission is a vial of blood from each of you. It may be a bit like closing the stable after the horse has bolted, but it is protocol. I’ve broken every kind of protocol by letting you in here and it may seem a bit redundant, but I like to follow protocol. Retain a semblance of order in our new orderless society.”

Rick nodded, he understood all about a little order. Even though he was no longer a deputy sheriff, the first thing he did was to put on his uniform. It made him feel normal. It made the world not feel to strange and hostile.

“I’m Rick Grimes. This is my wife Lori,” motioning to his wife, “and son Carl. Why do you carry a gun, where is the security, the soldiers, hell even a cop?”

“Because Rick, may I call you Rick, I am the only one left here. When this all started, we were so sure we would find the cure. But as the days went by, more and more of the other scientists, workers and soldiers left. They wanted to spend whatever time they could with their families. Those of us who stayed behind let them leave. They could not bring their loved ones here, so we let them go. To try and save their families. The longer we searched for a cure and the more death and destruction we witnessed, the more of those remaining behind lost hope. You see, those of us who stayed and worked, we did not have people on the outside. We did not have loved ones. So one after the other, they lost all hope and… ah… well, they opted out.”

Daryl knew what Jenner meant when he said some “opted out”, it meant they killed themselves. Jenner was the only one down here, all alone, still trying to find a cure or maybe even just a vaccine.

Jenner marched them to a little office and proceeded to withdraw one vial of blood from each of them. Ed started moaning, he mumbled something about not trusting doctors, scientists and the Government. How he was sure they were the ones behind this in any case.

Maybe the Government and its scientists did cause this mess. It would not be the first time any government and its scientists messed with things that were better left alone. Hell, those who worked on the Manhattan Project may have publically supported their actions, but deep down they must have been sorry for the death and destruction they caused. Maybe they were only able to sleep at night by telling themselves, if they did not create the atomic bomb, Hitler and his scientists would have and then the crazy little dictator would have destroyed the world. But the fact remains, that somethings were just better left undiscovered. Some things never should have seen the light of day, things such as the atomic bomb and germ warfare.

But that have always been the problem with humanity, ever since the dawn of time. Two tribes started waging war. At first they only beat the crap out of each other with their bare hands. Then one picks up a stick and is suddenly able to inflict more damage to the other group. The seconds group decide to throw rocks, because rocks are harder than wood and then it escalates. Each vying to outdo the other, to inflict more pain and damage. It continued up until the world ended. Each country wanting to prove they are the biggest meanest dog in the junkyard. 

In the end humanity just proved to itself, just because something could be done, it does not mean it should be done.

Jenner continued drawing blood, choosing to ignore Ed Peletier. He could not refute the claims of chemical and germ warfare. But it did not mean he approved of it. He spent his days trying to find cures for illnesses caused by viruses and bacteria. He never suspected anything wrong with the group, until he withdrew the final vial and the blonde woman in front of him swooned.

“Sorry,” she mumbled, “it is just that we are so hungry. It’s been quite a few days since we ate.”

Jenner may not have been able to cure the world of all illnesses. Hell, it seemed as if he was unable to find a cure to the current plague destroying humanity, but he could cure their hunger.

 

TWD TWD TWD

The atmosphere around the dinner table were alive. Being able to sit around a dining room table, eating your food out of real plates, with glasses of water, juice and wine, made everybody forget about the troubles. 

Glenn was more than just a little drunk. He was red in the face, laughing, telling stories about his life as a full time student and part time pizza delivery guy. 

“I’m telling you, most people did not seem to think that the guy delivering their pizzas were real humans. I saw people coming to the door bare assed naked. Women with their boobies flapping in the breeze, not even blushing when they opened the door and took their food.”

Shane and Rick told stories about their days in the police academy, the different cases and how they even had to rescue a kitten from a tree now and again. Shane told with great glee the story about a reckless rookie cop who shot himself in the foot, because he never learned to put his service pistol’s safety on. Rick told them about Morgan and his son Duane.

Dale told stories about the trips he and his wife took. How after she passed away, he sold everything but the RV, drifting across America, visiting every place they ever visited. Hoping to find peace and acceptance. How they always wanted children, but were never able to. How after everything ended he found Andrea and Amy. How the two sisters were now the daughters he never had.

Amy got teary eyed at that, hugging Dale. Glad that he found them. Promising him that one day he would meet her other parents and that she was glad he was her second father. Andrea talked about all her accomplishments. Her fancy car, her fancy apartment, filled to the brim with every gadget available and the rare and expensive artworks decorating her rooms. Her high profile career as a civil rights attorney. Mentioning she worked with Jesse Jackson on a few cases, how she defended those without a voice against bigoted redneck fools. Looking straight at Daryl Dixon when she said it.

Jacqui, Jim and T-Dog did not share any stories. Maybe they missed their old lives so much, they did not want to ruin the comfortable dinner side conversation.

Carl and Sophia stuffed themselves until they were ready to burst. Shane served Daryl a small side plate of food, claiming the boy gorged himself on hidden beef jerky in the truck on the way to the CDC. Andrea stared daggers at the child, thinking to herself. “The little ungrateful shit knew we were all hungry. But instead of sharing with the rest of us, he just stuffed his face. I would not have given him even a single pea if he was in my care.”

Daryl just slowly ate his small plate of food, savoring each morsel. At least he was used to hunger, he survived seven years under the cruel ministrations of his parents. He would survive this. 

Jenner told the kids they could sleep in the games room, just as long as they did not start up any of the electronic games. Amy offered to babysit them for the night. She was still a kid at heart and did not playing the more juvenile board games with them.

TWD TWD TWD

Ed grumbled a bit, until he realized the kid won’t be in the same room and tonight, at long last he would be able to fuck his wife, whether she wanted to or not. Carol saw the predatory glint in Ed’s eyes. She was glad Sophia could spend time just being a child, but since the world ended, Sophia had been her armor against Ed’s unwanted advances and his more vicious behavior. She realized that if she did not want to face the group in the morning resembling road kill, she better open her legs up and take it like a champ. At least Ed was a very selfish lover and after he came, he was out for the count.

Forcing herself, Carol plastered her best, fake, I’m in the mood for some loving from my man smile on her face, gently touched Ed’s sweaty arm and whispered. “Ed, honey, I know you said that we must keep an eye out for Sophia and never let her out of her sight. But it’s been so long and I’ve been missing you…”

Ed Peletier was a very cruel man. He believed the man was the head of the household and whenever man opened his mouth and spoke women folk better shut the fuck up and listen. He ruled his marriage with an iron fist. He never spend and did not believe in wasting his money on useless trivial trinkets for his wife and daughter. Had she been a better wife she would have produced a son and not another girl. He bought the best flat screen TV for their home, but the television was not for the enjoyment of Carol and Sophia, it was for his enjoyment alone. He worked hard to provide for them and it was his only time to relax and unwind. Ed controlled every little thing in the Peletier household and made sure Carol received fifty dollars a week to purchase food and cleaning supplies. Carol learned how to make do with what she was given and quickly became the local coupon queen. Their house did not contain any fancy household supplies. The only reason Ed brought the washing machine home, was because he rescued it from a dumpster. So what if it had quite a few ugly scratches and bumps and could not quite seem to enter the spin cycle. The damn thing worked and it was Carol’s birthday after all. But for all his cruelty and cunning, Ed Peletier was a very narrow minded and stupid individual. Carol could not fool the man with a single penny, but she fooled him with her fake devotion. She was afraid of Ed, but not for herself, but for Sophia. She chose the man, ignoring the advice from her parents, but Sophia did not. Carol made sure to protect Sophia as much as possible and thus far had been able to divert his foul temper away from their only child. Ed may dream lofty dreams of a son, but Carol knew that Sophia would be their only child.

Carol could still remember that morning. She had just been released from the hospital and had to walk the twenty miles home, balancing her overnight bag in the one arm and her newborn daughter in the other. Ed either forgot to pick them up because he was too drunk or he was still upset because she gave birth to a girl. Carol still loved her husband at this point in time, but at least she was not blind to his faults anymore.

The long lost Carol Peletier of that morning still believed her Ed could change. He only slapped her a bit, like when she knew he was hungry and he had to wait for his dinner or when she asked stupid questions about the useless people working with him. She learned how to read her husband’s moods, when his eyes looked a bit crinkled he was in a good mood. Maybe he made a few bucks down at the racetracks. Or the little snot nosed shit got fired. She loved that Ed the most. It was crinkly eyed Ed that swept her from her feet and convinced her to get married, against her parents’ wishes.

But when he came home, his lips pursed so tightly together his mouth looked like a white slash against his tanned skin. Then she knew she had to tread very carefully. It was Ed’s I’m in a shitty mood face. It was his I’m warning you stay the fuck away from me face. Then Carol would hang around in the shadows, ready to refill his glass, empty the ashtray and pretend she was a mouse. This face Carol learned to fear, because it was the precursor of horrible things to come.

His final face was the one Carol feared the most. It was red with veins popping and spittle flying. His eyes were wild, flicking around the room, looking to find fault with how Carol cleaned the house, prepared the food or even just look at him. When he was in this black mood, he was as silent as a thought and could strike faster than a snake. In years to come, Carol would try and remember his crinkly eyed face. She counted her lucky stars and said it was a good week when he only hovered on the brink, his mouth set in that awful white slash mode.

For the whole of her pregnancy, Ed carried Carol on his hands. It was in her seventh month when he brought the washing machine home. He stroked her round pregnant belly, talking to his son. 

“My boy, just as soon as you are old enough I’ll take you camping. We will have so much fun together. Ed and Eddie against the world.”

When her water broke, he was so nervous he ran straight over his beloved mailbox and drove to the hospital in first gear. Afraid he was going to cause an accident, killing his son.

Seven hours later a sweaty, tired and sore Carol delivered their baby. The look on Ed’s face when the nurse told him it was a lovely healthy baby girl. Ed left the hospital, his mouth set into that thin white slash. Three days later Carol and little Sophia was discharged and she had to walk the twenty miles back home.

The house was quiet, the curtains drawn. Empty beer cans and quite a few empty whiskey bottles littered the house. Their bed was unmade, wet and smelling of urine. It seemed as if Ed drunk himself into a stupor and lost control of his bladder. The kitchen table was overflowing with empty pizza boxes. Carol took Sophia to the nursery, making sure her nappy was still dry and quietly started cleaning the house. Later she fixed supper, waiting for her husband. Ed stayed away for a whole week. When he finally came home he stormed into the house and started punching and kicking Carol. That was the first of many beatings to come. The damage caused by that beating ensured that Carol would never be able to conceive again. Not that she told Ed that. It was still her secret, one that she would only share with her dangerous unstable husband the moment Sophia was all grown up. Carol only stayed alive for the sake of her daughter. The only good thing she ever received from Ed Peletier.

TWD TWD TWD

Jacqui, Jim and T-Dog enjoyed their warm showers, before crawling into the beds. They were asleep before the count of ten. And why not? It was the first night in a long time their bellies were full, they were able to wash themselves like civilized human beings and had the comfort of warm beds beneath their bodies.

 

Andrea took a shower, before the red wine made a nasty comeback. She was glad when Dale entered the bathroom, quietly rubbing her back and holding her hair back. After wards, he helped her to her bed and tucked her in as if she was a little girl.

Rick and Lori Grimes were in the shower together, Shane Walsh hanging around in the shadows. 

Glenn showered and fell asleep. An innocent smile plastered on his face. Maybe he was dreaming about all the boobies he used to see. Maybe he was dreaming of puppies and kittens.

Jenner was back in his lab, testing the vials of blood. One sample after the other delivered the results he had been expecting. The virus laying dormant in their blood. Just waiting for them to die, before activating. If you get bit or scratched, the virus burned like wildfire through your veins. All except one. It was the very last vial he picked up. There was no trace of the virus in this sample. Jenner wondered if this person would turn, even if he was bitten. Chances are that he would not be infected and would indeed survive the bite or scratch, unless the dead thing ripped out his throat. For a moment, Jenner felt a surge of hope coursing through his veins. Here was the answer to a cure, a way to turn this shit storm around and save humanity. But then he remembered. He only had fuel for another thirty hours. Thirty hours and this place would disappear from the face of the earth. He silently promised himself that he would tell them the truth, maybe not the whole truth, but he would tell them the truth before sending them on their way. Those who wished to stay with him until the end, were more than welcome, but he will give them a chance. They deserved to live, especially the very special one.

Daryl was cleaning the dining room and washing the dishes. The moment everybody left the dining room, Walsh cornered him. Gripping his arms so tightly Daryl believed his arms would be littered with fresh finger shaped bruises come morning.

“You know the rules boy. You want to stuff your useless face with our food, you better do your part. Now Jenner may have told you to eat, but I did not. When I come back in an hour, this dining room better be sparkling and every last glass, plate, cutlery, pot and pan must be washed and put away.

While Carl and Sophia played Monopoly and a variety of board games with Amy, their laughter drifting down the empty silent halls, Daryl cleaned the dining room and kitchen. An hour later an irate Walsh pushed him into the showers.

“You better scrub yourself clean. Your useless fucking brother may have allowed you to run around dirty and smelly, but that is not me. And don’t even think of using the warm water. Warm water is for humans, not stupid little inbred redneck shits like you!”

Daryl made sure to scrub himself clean. If Walsh thought he would piss himself, crying because of a little cold water, he better think again. Warm water was a luxury in the Dixon household and Will Dixon never wasted money on trivial little things like warm water. The first time Daryl had a hot shower was the night Merle came and took him away. For the past two years he may have enjoyed two hot showers a day, but Daryl never forgot where he came from.

Afterwards, Walsh dragged him to an empty storeroom, shoving him inside and locking the door.

“You sure as shit don’t deserve a bed. You can sleep in here, just like the filthy animal you are.”

Daryl just curled himself in a small bundle, using his backpack as a pillow. Since the world ended, he was grateful for the way Will Dixon raised him. The others may have complained about the hard ground, the uncomfortable sleeping arrangements, but never Daryl. Besides he saw their tents. They did not even sleep on the ground, but comfortably on camping beds, complete with mattresses, sheets and pillows. He and Merle each had a sleeping bag and slept on the ground. He was used to sleeping on the bare floor, as Will never provided a bed for his youngest son and besides Daryl was used to run away, hiding in the woods until Will Dixon calmed down and it was safe to go home. Ten minutes later the small boy was asleep. Dreaming of Merle coming back and taking him away from these hostile adults.

TWD TWD TWD

Rick stood under the spray of hot water. The last time he had been able to shower was the morning he left their hometown. He, Morgan and Duane showering in the police station, before the left for Atlanta. Suddenly Rick remembered that Morgan told him that he would follow in a few days. He just needed to teach Duane how to shoot and of course take care of his wife, well deceased wife. He remembered each taking a walkie, promising to stay in contact with each other. He completely forgot about the man who saved his life.

He just hoped Morgan and Duane did not leave yet, he’ll try and get on the building’s roof in the morning and hopefully be able to contact the man.

Lori entered the shower behind her husband.

“For better or worse, I’m stuck with him now. I need to reestablish our relationship.”

Lori really wanted to leave Daryl Dixon behind. Nobody would have missed him, just like nobody missed his brother. It was a whole new world now and people like the Dixons weren’t welcome in this new world. But she also knew that Rick would never leave the boy behind. If Daryl was older, say at least fifteen, she would have been able to convince her husband to leave, but the little shit was only nine. He may be half wild and an accomplished hunter, but he was still just a child. And Rick had a soft spot for children, he worked extra hard on cases that involved children. Maybe it was because he believed they struggled so long to conceive. If the man only knew the child he thought was his son, was in fact Shane’s.

 

She a bit pissed at Shane for the moment. How dare he tell her Rick was dead? Sure only the Dixons knew about her and Shane and their little trysts in the woods, but it did not mean she wanted the whole camp to know yet. They decided on a timeline, everybody would get used seeing the two together, Shane caring for his best friend and partner’s widow and son. Lori and Carl grieving for their husband and father, whilst growing closer to the supportive and gentlemanly Shane Walsh. After a year, they would announce that they were seeing each other. Still making sure to mention Rick, just so that the people would know she loved her husband. She was slowly recovering from the shock of his loss, but that she would always love him. Then after another year of dating, they would move in together. Everybody would be overjoyed that the mourning widow found love again. Appearances were everything to Lori Grimes.

 

Lori circled Rick in the shower, slowly washing him, slowly seducing him. He must never learn about her relationship with Shane and above all he must never doubt the paternity of her son. She had no doubt in her mind, that this mess will be solved and their world will return to normal. She may be poor now, with Rick still alive and all the riches of the Grimes family basically useless. But as soon as the world righted itself, she will still be Mrs Rick Grimes and soon enough Rick will suffer another on the job shooting, one that he will not recover from. Then she, Carl and Shane will start their new life, with all the riches they would ever need, curtesy of the Grimes family.

Rick missed Lori so much. She was once again the girl he fell in love with. Gone and forgotten was their marital problems. He kissed her while tenderly cupping her right breast in his hand, gently fondling the breast, rubbing the nipple. His left hand stroked downward, until he reached between her legs, before inserting a finger into her pussy, 

Lori moaned into his mouth. Rick was not an assertive lover, but thinking about her future, she would moan and groan. The mere thought of the trust funds, stocks and bonds were enough to reach earth shattering orgasms. The water started cooling around the two lovers.

Giving his wife another kiss, Rick roughly whispered, “Let’s go to bed.”

Lori caressed his cheek, “Give me five minutes to freshen up.”

 

She was brushing her teeth when the bathroom door opened. Shane staggered into the room, half a bottle of Jack Daniels’ dangling from his left hand. Seeing the love of is life naked in front of the mirror excited the drunken man. With a growl he lifted, roughly shoving two fingers up her cunt, rubbing furiously. Panting he tried to remove his pants. He could almost feel himself seeing balls deep into his lover’s body. But it proved near impossible in his drunken state to keep fingering her pussy, remove his pants and shove his cock so far up her cunt she would be able to give him a blowjob at the same time.

A burning pain on his left cheek brought Shane back to reality. The fucking bitch scratched him.

“What the fuck do you think you are doing Shane? Now is not the time to make everybody, especially Rick, suspicious about our relationship! You were the one who fucked up. You told me my husband died and the fool that I am, I trusted you.”

“Lori, please, love, I promise. I thought he was dead. All the monitors died, I could not hear him breathing and I could not hear his heartbeat. I thought he was dead.”

Shane did not believe now was the time to tell the angry woman that he closed the door to Rick’s hospital room and dragged a gurney in front of it, effectively blocking the room and preventing walkers from entering it and making a meal of Rick Grimes.

Sometimes he felt guilty about what he was doing behind Rick’s back. Rick was his best friend, fuck, he was his only friend. He never behaved like a rich boy in front of Shane. Never flaunted his money. Shane knew he was a bitter and jealous man. He was very aware of all his faults, mistakes and vices. But despite himself, he loved Rick Grimes like a brother. Shane was very conflicted about Rick Grimes. He hated the man, he detested the fact that Rick married the love of Shane Walsh’s life, he hated the fact that Rick was a better cop than him, his easy going personality, the way he could take charge of a situation and inspire people to follow him blindly, his naïve personality, always trying to see the best in humanity. But he also loved Rick Grimes, for pretty much the same reasons.

That was why he tried to save Rick’s life when he got shot. That’s why he kept visiting him in the hospital. That is why he cried and begged like a little girl when he believed Rick died. And that is why he blocked the entrance to Rick’s room, feeling guilty as hell for leaving him there to rot, without the benefit of a decent funeral, but not wanting those dead things to rip pieces of flesh from his body.

TWD TWD TWD

Jenner invited them into the control room.

“When all this started, we believed we would find patient zero, we would identify the virus, develop a vaccination and a cure against this new disease. But as time went by we came to the horrifying conclusion that we would never be able to locate patient zero. We would never be able to find a cure. The truth is that this is the perfect virus. We don’t know where or how it started. What we do know is that it is transmittable by bodily fluids, such as bites and scratches. At least it is not airborne. What we do know is that this is the perfect killer. Nobody is immune, if you are bitten or scratched, you are infected and once infected the virus will rage through your body, killing you before resurrecting you. We were only able to learn what we have learned through the great sacrifice of one of our own scientists.”

Jenner took a moment to compose himself. He could not tell them about the one in their group who was immune. He gave the order to Vi to playback the video of his wife. He wanted them to share his pain and understand why he was sending them away and why he would not be leaving with them.

“The patient was bitten and infected. She volunteered to be studied, slowly dying from the virus. So that we may have a chance to save humanity. Vi, please play event 1.”

On the screen they could see an x-ray video of the person. They could see her brain and the neurons firing. It was almost frantic. They could almost hear her labored breathing. She was struggling against her bonds, trying to escape, trying to end it. For a moment she went still, before she started convulsing. Ten seconds later she stopped moving.

“The first event shows her final moments on earth. Vi, please play event 2.” 

The video resumed its playback. It still showed the dead form of the female scientist. Suddenly there were small flickers in her brain. A few neurons started firing, but before the light show seemed frantic, frightening and beautiful. Now it was slow and very frightening.

“Half an hour after she died, we detected movement. There is localized brain activity, but only the parts that control our base instincts. The need to survive and the need to feed. Everything else, everything that made you you is still dead and it is never coming back. What is left is a thing with one need only, the need to feed.”

The silence in the room was palpable. Nobody wanted to watch the screen, but nobody dared to avert their eyes. The next moment a bullet shaped object entered the victim’s brain, destroying the thing that came back, finally stilling the body.

Andrea was gagging. Rick cleared his throat a few times, before finally asking, “Was that a…”

“A bullet? Yes, we learned what we could. We observed the rate of infection and in the end I granted a small act of mercy towards the victim. Now I have some real shitty news to share with you. Like everything else in this world, this building needs electricity to function. We were connected to the city’s power grid, so when the power in the city died, so did ours. Since then, we’ve been using the generators. We’ve got some real kick ass generators, but the generators run on fuel. Something I do not have an unlimited supply of. In fact I opened the last barrel yesterday, just before you showed up. In about sixteen hours from now, the building will go in final lockdown. Whomever is still inside will stay inside. The final burst of energy will be utilized for the final protocol. Located throughout the facility is bombs and other incendiary devices. The final spark would be to ignite these bombs and destroy the facility. It is a last gasp effort to ensure the virus contained in this facility does not escape to the outside. Now under normal circumstances, the Director of the CDC and the Head of Security could initiate a manual override to enforce the final protocol. In the event of total power failure and the generators not kicking in, this facility will go into a meltdown phase with an automated self-destruct. There is no way to override the self-destruct and truthfully even if it could be done and I knew how to do it I will not. We are sitting on a cornucopia of the world’s deadliest and incurable viruses. I think the survivors on the outside’s got enough to worry about, I won’t make their lives even more difficult by letting these viruses out in the world. But there is still time for you. Those who wish to leave and take their chances on the outside, take whatever supplies you may need. I’ll unlock the pantry and armory for you. You have six hours to take what you need and then have plenty of time to leave. I’m not sure how big the blast radius will be and I do not wish to cause your deaths with flying debris. I won’t be joining you. I’ve got nothing left to live for and truth be told, I’m tired. I tried my best to solve this problem, but I fear this is humanity’s last gasp. Only the strongest will survive now. Besides, I wish to join my wife. The burden of seeing her suffer and then killing her, has been weighing on my mind…”

Up until right then, Rick was ready to force Jenner to evacuate with them. But he saw the resolve in the man’s face. He knew Jenner did not want to live anymore. He lost everything and everyone he ever cared about.

Rick started giving orders, they would first take all the supplies they wanted to the lobby. When they were ready, they would move the vehicles closer to the entrance. This would cut the danger to a bare minimum whilst still giving them enough chance to escape.

Four hours later and the lobby was filled with bottled water, canned foods, dried foods, blankets, pillows, clothing, books and games, weapons and medicine. Lori directed the women to carry the smaller and lighter items and distribute them to each vehicle. She kept an eye out for Carl and Sophia. Shane made sure to put Daryl to work. He briefly wondered if he would be able to leave the boy here with Jenner, but Rick would never believe a child of nine wanted to commit suicide. Besides the boy proved to be quite the work horse and stress reliever for Shane. Nobody could even tell Shane beat the shit out the kid twice in the past twenty four hours. Goddamn, but rednecks were sure built tough.

Their small group lost two to Jenner and his little suicide cult. Jim and Jacqui stayed behind. Both longed to be with their lost families. Both were tired of the uncertainty and the fear. Rick did not agree with it. He did not even agree with Jenner’s decision to stay behind, but it was their choice. Besides suicidal people like them would only endanger the rest of the group. His first priority was his family and even though he may look out for the rest of the group, Lori and Carl came first, then came Shane. The remainder of the group’s safety followed and God forgive him, but Daryl Dixon’s safety lagged in the distance. He liked to think that he would have stepped in and force the child to come with them if he chose to stay behind, but if he was honest with himself, he might not have. He will not leave the child to fend for himself, but he would not have intervened if he chose to stay with Jenner. It was not as if he had anybody left who cared about him and loved him. The group barely tolerated him, because he was an excellent hunter and tracker and was still young enough to try and train to behave like a normal human being.

This made Rick think of Jenner’s last bit of parting news.

“There’s something else. I hope I’m doing the right thing. But you deserve to know the truth. We all know that if one of those things bites you or scratches you, you get infected, die and come back as one of them. If that was the only way to for the virus to survive, humanity might have stood a chance. But the problem is, that each and every other human on the face of this planet is infected with the virus. I’m infected just as you are. The only difference between us and them is that the virus is still dormant in our bodies, the moment you die, whether you were bitten by one of them or not, you’ll come back. Being bitten only expedites the spread of the virus.”

It looked like he was about to say something else, but instead Jenner clammed his mouth shut. He personally bid each and every one of them farewell, whispering something in their ears. It seems that the message to each individual differed from the rest. Lori refused to tell what the man had to say to her, Carl giggled and said Jenner told him he still seemed like the most dangerous in their group. His message to Rick was to be a strong but fair leader of their group. The man even had something to say to the Dixon boy. Just goes to show, either Jenner was a very compassionate guy, not caring that the Dixon’s were a rough bunch of assholes or he was too crazy, too mad with grief, too depressed to notice the potential murdering, raping, drug using piece of shit that he was bound to turn into, unless Shane managed the unthinkable a domesticated him.


	3. Chapter 3

Shane wanted to slap himself. Better yet, he wanted to beat the shit out of Dixon. They should have taken Merle’s bike. Now they were stuck up shit creek without a paddle. The traffic jam did not look that bad and they were able to weave between the abandoned cars. Well until they couldn’t. There was no way forward and whilst the way back was most certainly easier they would have wasted precious gas. Their little caravan was stuck in a sea of cars.

Maybe he could send the boy to scout ahead and try and see how far this clusterfuck continues. If it was not too horrible, they could always push the cars out of the road and open a way up for them. He and Rick discussed this very scenario. Both options had their own advantages and drawbacks.

The advantages of sticking to the backroads were quite obvious. No traffic jams, no surprises of walkers stuck in their vehicles. But on the flip side, they would waste gas, they would take a hell of a lot longer to reach their destination, not that they had a current destination in mind. Just to get the fuck away from Atlanta or any major city centre. Their chances of looting abandoned vehicles were also slim to none.

The advantages of the main roads were that they would encounter more vehicles and could thus loot the vehicles of any valuables, such as food, clothing, medicine, weapons, ammunition and gas. On the downside was getting stuck in a traffic jam, such as this one and greatly enhancing the possibility of encountering roaming walkers. They were certain they would easily dispatch up to a moderate size group of walkers, but the sound of gunshots could potentially attract even more of those dead fuckers.

“Stay!” 

With that Shane hopped out of the truck and approached Rick. They needed to discuss their options and quickly. Lori argued with Rick, shaking her head. She pushed for the group to go back to their hometown. She argued that they knew the town, they could take it back and fortify it and live there in safety. Rick and most importantly Shane, did not agree with her. Shane still wanted to head to either Ford Benning or any other military installation. Rick was not against the idea of fortifying a town, just not their hometown.

“Lori, honey, for the last time. We need a smaller town. It would be easier and safer to erect barriers and easier to defend. We need to find a town located near a river, so that have easy access to water. Water for drinking, bathing and growing crops. Please, get back in the truck, let me and Shane try and find a way through this mess.”

He gave her a quick kiss, before she stomped back towards the cube truck, slamming the door viciously behind her.

“What do you think? Should we loot the cars in the immediate vicinity, turn around and find a back route or should be start by clearing a path looting as we go?”

Shane liked the idea that Rick depended on him and trusted him so much.

“I think it would be best to go forward. The men could push the vehicles out of the way, the women and children loot the vehicles as we go. Who knows what treasures we could miss if we turn around now.”

Just then Dale’s RV sputtered and died, steam escaping with the sound of a kettle boiling.

“What the fuck now? That fucking thing is a death trap. One of these fine days it is going to explode, killing us all.”

Shane really wanted to kick the old man. Why some people could not take better care of their vehicles he would never know. By Dale’s own admission, the RV’s troubles started long before this mess. His excuse of waiting until he reached Atlanta was just utter bullshit. How many towns did he pass on his way to Atlanta and every fucking town had a mechanic.

Rick just sighed. “OK, so that means we are stuck here for a while longer. We’ll start looting the cars, looking for a replacement radiator hose, Dale could keep a lookout. He may be old, but his eyes are still sharp. After stripping the surrounding vehicles of any valuables, the men could start pushing the stuck cars out of the way, while Dale is fixing the RV.”

Rick glanced at his watch. It was later than he expected.

“We should also be prepared that we are going to be stuck here for the night. With careful planning we would all fit into the cube truck and the RV. I think we also ought to draw up a guard rotation. One of us at all times on top of the RV.”

In a matter of minutes their small group was informed of their predicament. Shane sent Daryl with T-Dog to search the vehicles in their wake. He wanted the boy out of his line of sight for the time being. It would prevent him from doing something stupid and beat the shit out of the brat right then and there. Ed wandered after T-Dog, Shane suspected he would only search for someplace to park his fat ass and smoke.

 

Carol and Amy searched the car. Both of ignored the baby seat in the back. Both refusing to imagine what happened to the baby who used that seat. The haul from this vehicle so far was ten bottles of water, a few bars of chocolate, slightly melted in their wrappings, two large bags of potato chips, twenty tins of spam, nobody’s favorite, but it was food and five suitcases filled with clothing. What really bothered them was the baby clothing and supplies.

“I know none of us are pregnant at the moment, but think about it. When we find someplace safe to stay…”

Carol did not finish the thought. Amy was a woman, she knew and understood the biology behind it all. There were five grown men and four women as well as two boys and one girl. Nature would take its course and somewhere along the line they would start pairing off. The only two males who would most probably stay alone was Dale and Daryl. Dale because he was the oldest in the group and viewed all the women as either his daughters or granddaughters. The Dixon boy? Nobody would want him. It was better if those with his kind of genes, were never allowed to breed. Carol felt a bit guilty at the last thought. It was not as if her husband was a prize. 

Lori was once again doing what she did best. Not doing anything and bitching about everything. Carl and Sophia was searching a car right in front of them. So she was keeping an eye on them at least.

“I don’t like this Rick. This place is a graveyard. We need to leave and we need to leave right now.”

“Lori, we need the supplies. We also need a radiator hose so that Dale can fix the RV. Please, just help the children search the cars.”

With that Rick left. Lori always had been a princess. Her daddy spoiled her, never allowing her to get her hands dirty. Lori was not used to hardship. She was not used to getting down and dirty. Loud whooping caught his attention, it was Carl. He seemed excited.

Carl carefully opened the car door. Sophia hovering behind him, wringing her hands in worry. A dead man was stuck in the car. What if he was one of those things and not really dead? 

“Don’t worry Sophia. He is dead. If he was one of those things, he would have moved by now.”

Carl was pretty sure he was dead. He knocked on the window, but the man on the inside did not move. If he was one of those things he would have moved his head when Carl knocked. At least he hoped so. The door was a bit stuck and Carl really had to yank on the door to open it. Just before calling his dad to come and help him, the door opened with a bang.

That proved it. If he was one of those things he would have reacted at that noise. Carl carefully reached into the car. He wanted the bag on the seat next to the dead man. Hopefully he would find something good. Something that would make his dad proud.

Opening the bag, Carl stood there like a dummy, mouth agape, before he started whooping. The bag contained a selection of really big knives. He turned around when he heard his dad calling him.

“Look! Look Dad! Look at what we found.”

Rick ruffled Carl’s hair, making the boy preen. It may not be guns or ammo, but it was weapons and if there was only one or two walkers and they needed to be quiet, these would come in handy.

Lori started screeching the moment she saw what Carl found. She grabbed him by the shoulders shaking him and yelling.

“Carl Grimes! How many times do I have to tell you not to touch those things? You could get hurt. You could hurt somebody else.”

Rick sometimes felt the burning urge to slap his wife. This was one of those moments. Carl looked so happy and proud. And now he looked like a kicked puppy. Lori always did this. She always put her husband and son down. Sometimes it even seemed to him that the only times she really wanted the boy around was when he tried to spend time with his father.

Shane and Glenn heard the ruckus. Shane loved Lori, he really did, but he could not handle it when she treated Carl like that. It was his, their, son after all. But with Rick believing the boy was his, Shane could not interfere. He noticed a truck, it seemed like delivery truck of sorts. He hoped it contained at least something useful. 

For a moment he stared at the bottles, before screaming “Hallelujah! Praise the Lord.” The truck was filled with water. Fresh clean water. The one commodity in real short supply. Glenn joined him in his celebrations. They could also use the radiator hose from this truck on the RV.

Daryl and T-Dog searched the cars in their wake. Thus far they were unsuccessful. The gas were long gone, as was food and water. T-Dog wondered if the occupants of the cars stayed until the cars ran out of gas, before grabbing whatever they had left and decided to walk. He saw it happen on the way to Atlanta. People were so desperate to get to the refugee centre and safety, they grabbed what they could and started walking.

They heard Carl’s excited whooping and Lori histrionics, but they kept searching vehicle after vehicle. Daryl was just glad to be free of Walsh’s oppressive presence and the sudden slaps coming from the man. T-Dog volunteered to join Daryl because he felt bad for the little boy. 

The more he thought about it the more he wondered what really happened in Atlanta. He could not name one instance where Merle Dixon made racist comments or sexual ones, except maybe to make Andrea shut her damn mouth. He was not drunk once and although the man smoked, he did not even smoke weed never mind use any sort of hard drug. The Dixons supplied the camp with meat, they went out hunting each day, sometimes they came back with a few rabbits, but sometimes it was only squirrels. T-Dog licked his lips when he remembered the small buck they dragged back to camp one evening. They never took food from the group, but shared whatever they hunted. And what did they do? They took the meat, but refused to treat the two like human beings.

There was also something off in Shane’s sudden desire to help raise Daryl. He never cared about the child and was the one most vocal that ostracized the boy. There was also the utter relief in Daryl’s eyes when T-Dog came with him and not Walsh. It was basically everything, the sudden flinch when he suddenly touched the boy, the tense way he carried himself. Almost as if he expected a blow… but Shane used to be a cop. Surely he would not abuse a child? Then a small voice in the back of his mind reminded him that cops were humans too and sometimes even cops were the bad guys. The ones who stole, committed murder, rape or abuse their wives and children. And if there ever was a cop who would abuse his badge, it would have been Shane Walsh.

He needed to corner Glenn. Maybe they could do something. They must be able to rescue the boy, even if it meant the two of them took the child and ran. The three of them could survive.

They heard Shane’s excited screams and could hear the words “water” drifting on the breeze. Still they searched the vehicles.

Daryl was at peace. The first time since he lost Merle. He kept thinking that he should just continue walking, slip away from T-Dog and try and make his own way in the world. He would be able to survive in the woods and maybe he would find other people who won’t treat him the same as the people in this group.

The adult and boy, each plotting and planning to leave the group. T-Dog did not want to get Daryl’s hopes up before he spoke to Glenn. Daryl stayed silent because he did not trust T-Dog, it was not as if any of the adults gave him reason to trust them.

With a small shock Daryl realized the highway was too silent. He could not hear the slamming of car doors. He could not hear Lori losing her cool because she broke a finger nail. He could not hear Ed screaming at Carol to get her lazy ass in gear and bring him something to drink.

But he heard something else, something he could not place. It came to him in bits and pieces. The shuffling of hundreds of pairs of feet. The groans and moans escaping a multitude of throats. The stench of death carried on the wind. Turning around he froze for a second or two. He could not believe his eyes. A sea of walkers stumbling towards them. The lack of screams meant the others were safe, but he and T-Dog weren’t. 

With the ease of years of practice hunting, Daryl slipped towards T-Dog. He whispered, before touching the man. It would not do if he scared the man so badly he started screaming.

“Hey, man, T-Dog. We’ve gotta hide. There’s a whole lot of walkers coming our way.”

T-Dog tensed. Daryl could hide beneath one of the cars, but he was too big. He’d never fit and the vehicles he would fit under were no safe haven. Daryl realized the problem the same time T-Dog did. He may not trust the man, but it did not mean he wanted him to be ripped to pieces.

“Come on. I’ve got a plan, but you gotta stay quiet.” 

Daryl led T-Dog to the last car he checked. A dead man and woman sat in the front, the car stank to high heaven and back, but the stench would hide T-Dog. He opened the back door. 

“Get in, I’ll cover you with their clothes and the blankets and lock the doors. Roll the windows just a bit down to let some fresh air in, but not enough so that one of those things can reach in. Besides they need to smell the death on the inside and not you.”

“What about you? I can’t leave you on the outside. We both can hide in here…”

“Not enough space and I need to cover you. Don’t worry about me, I’ll find a safe place to hide.”

T-Dog did not like the plan, but he needed the boy to trust him and if he wanted Daryl Dixon’s trust, then T-Dog must trust Daryl Dixon first. With a heavy heart he allowed the child to cover him in clothes and blankets, before closing the car doors. T-Dog was now hidden in plain sight, but somewhere on the outside was a small nine year old boy who had to fend for himself.

Daryl checked the distance of the walkers, they were closer, but at least he was still safe. He still had time to find his own hiding place. For the first time in his life he was very glad that he was so small, that he did not mind getting dirty and bloody. Will Dixon at last proved to be useful to the young boy, even if he did not mean it. 

Daryl at last found a safe to hide. Three cars were hung up on each other. Forming a small triangle in the middle. Daryl would be safe there. He dragged the bodies of two dead men into the triangle. He could hide underneath them. Daryl nearly did not see the walker. One moment he was alone and the next a lone walker reached for his, teeth snapping.

He was glad Walsh gave him his hunting knife back. Without it Daryl Dixon would have become walker lunch. Daryl jumped out of the walker’s reach, quickly circling him before sinking his knife into the walker’s skull. Daryl made sure the walker was fully dead, before dragging him to his hiding place. The horde of walkers were closer. 

Daryl frantically settled himself in the nest he built himself, snug between the two corpses and dragging the dead walker over him like a smelly meat blanket.

Heart pounding he listened. The horde of walkers were closer. The around him filled with the groans, moans and stench. He was so afraid out there. All alone with only the corpses keeping him company and hopefully safe. A few walkers got stuck against the cars, before being pushed around and away.

TWD TWD TWD

Dale was bored on top of the RV. He kept scanning the road for any danger. Back where they came from he could see the boy and T-Dog checking the vehicles for any supplies. It appeared as if their search had been fruitless thus far. 

He saw Ed Peletier hiding himself in one of the vehicles with what seemed a full bottle of Jack Daniels. “Oh joy, tonight I will have to listen to the bastard beating Carol to a pulp.” Merle Dixon was the only one who stepped in at punched the bastard a few times before Shane put a stop to it. If only he was not so old and afraid. If it was not for Andrea and Amy, he would have taken Glenn and Daryl and left. That boy needed protection. He may be a bit rough around the edges, but he was a good child. Always polite, always ready to help in whatever way he could.

Dale saw the first walker. A soft whistle alerted Rick to the danger. Grimes prepared himself to shoot the walker, but before he could he saw the rest of the horde coming towards them.

With a soft curse, Rick quietly warned everybody to hide. Andrea and Amy locked themselves into the RV. Dale fell flat down on the roof of the RV, everybody else scurried beneath the vehicles. Dale hoped T-Dog and Daryl realized the danger and had time to hide themselves. He was not really worried about Ed. If there was one person in this group who really deserved becoming lunch to these dead bastards it was Ed Peletier.

TWD TWD TWD

It seemed like an eternity before the first of the walkers reached them. Carol and Lori held their hands over their mouths in an attempt to stop them from crying out. Carl and Sophia was stuck underneath a car next to their mothers. Sophia’s eyes were wide, both her hands clasped over her mouth. She wanted her mother. She was afraid those things were going to find her and hurt her.

Dale lay praying on top of the RV. Besides the sisters in the RV below, he was most probably the safest of them all. All he had to do was lay still and keep quiet. He never realized how badly those dead things smelled.

Inside the RV, Andrea held Amy in her arms. They locked the doors and were hunkered down on the floor. Their groans and moans reverberated through the RV. 

Andrea whispered words of encouragement to her sister, her kid sister who still believed in fairies and mermaids. She was so innocent, she did not deserve to live in a world like this. 

“We’re safe.”   
“Don’t worry, they’ll be gone soon.”  
“Don’t worry, we’ll soon find a safe place to stay.”  
“Those things will never get into the RV.”

Somehow she did not believe it, but she had to make Amy believe it. She had to protect Amy.

Shane was afraid, but angry as well. This was all Rick’s fault. He was the one who wanted to go to the CDC in the first place. If they did not go there first, they would have been safe at Fort Benning already. They would have missed this mess.

Glenn hoped the horde would soon pass. He was worried about everybody in the group, well maybe not Shane and definitely not Ed Peletier. He was mostly worried about Daryl. The poor orphan boy who had nobody left in this harsh new world. Carl still had both his parents and Walsh to protect him. Sophia had Carol. The group cared about Carl and Sophia. Trying to make things easier on them. Protecting them from most of the harsh realities of the new world. But nobody protected Daryl. Nobody cared whether he had warm clothes or if he ate.

“I promise, if we make it out of this alive, I will do everything in my power to protect and care for that little boy. Even if I have to take him and run away. Shane Walsh will no longer get his grubby claws on the child.”

Glenn prayed silently, hoping that God or even any other deity out there was listening. Who cared enough for a little lost redneck boy and wanted to see him safe from harm.

 

TWD TWD TWD

Ed Peletier wandered aimlessly. He looked into a few of the cars, not really searching for anything that would benefit the group. In one car he found an open box of Cuban cigars, which he grabbed for himself. A man needs to treat himself every now and again. In another he discovered a sealed bag of potato chips and a candy bar. Ed felt like screaming “Praise Jesus” when he found a full bottle of gin in a car. Gin was not really his drink of choice, but like they say, any port will do in a storm.

Next Ed started looking for a comfortable place to enjoy his snacks, the gin and a cigar. He rejected on car after the other. He passed the kid and black guy a while ago. He grunted some sort of response when T-Dog asked him if he found anything useful. 

Ed did not quite know who was to blame for his current hardships, but he had a fairly good idea. The mess of the world now, was the damn government’s fault. Always out to get the little man. Always out to screw honest hardworking men like Ed Peletier over. According the gospel of Ed, the CIA, FBI and NSA was responsible for this current outbreak. They of course listened like good straw men to their handlers, those assholes sitting on Capitol Hill and in the White House. 

Ed did not care whether the current President was Republican or Democrat. It was all in any case a cover story. There were not Republicans and not Democrats. They lived in a one party state and every few years, they would appoint a new figure head, calming the sheep into thinking they voted the candidate of their choice into power.

Did they really think they would be able to pull the wool over Ed Peletier’s eyes? Oh no sir. His momma did not raise a fool for a child. Ed Peletier trusted one person and one person alone on the face of this planet and that was Ed Peletier. Sometimes he even believes that Carol and Sophia were agents planted by the Government to keep an eye on him. To break him down and force him to conform.

Ed was so lost in himself, he reached the turnoff ramp. A little in the distance he could see the small campsite they passed this morning. Ed remembered there was comfy chair right below a tree, casting a long shadow over the little oasis in this mess.

Ten minutes later, Ed opened the bottle of gin, took a healthy swig and started devouring the snacks. Soon enough the snacks were gone as was half of the gin. Ed sighed. This is the life. He could almost forget about dead things walking around, fucking shit up. Half an hour later and Ed was nearly passed out, the bottle of gin gone and smashed to bits on the road, lazily smoking his second cigar.

By this time, Ed was lulled into a false sense of security. The gin dulled whatever was left of his senses and he completely forgot the danger. It was just him, sitting beneath a tree, smoking a cigar or two, dreaming lofty dreams of how he would be the one to expose the puppet masters and free the world from their cruel rule.

He never saw the danger until it was too late. One moment he was all alone in his little corner of paradise. The next moment a horde of those walkers were upon him. Fear drove him to jump up and run away. Fear gave his lazy feet wings and for a mile the slob led the walkers away from the rest of the group. When he finally fell and was devoured, the horde was far enough away from the group.

Ed may not have intended to sacrifice himself to save his wife and daughter, but in the end he managed to inadvertently perform a good deed and do something positive for his timid wife and child.

 

TWD TWD TWD

 

At long last the walkers were gone. Sophia wanted to go to her mother. She wanted her mother to give her a hug and tell her everything was going to be all right.

It was just a small scrape of her foot, but the noise was enough. There was still one walker left and he heard the noise. Falling down to the ground he reached towards whatever made the sound. Sound meant food.

Sophia saw the dirty dead hands reaching for her. The thing moaned louder, trying to reach her, trying to grab her. With a muffled scream Sophia scurried from beneath the car, running blindly into the woods.

Carol and Lori watched in horror as the thing reached underneath the car their children were hiding. They heard Sophia’s scream before she shot out from underneath the car, fleeing into the woods.

Shane heard a child’s scream. Hoping that Carl was safe and if one of the children got eaten it would be better if it was Sophia.

Rick heard the muffled scream and saw the little girl tearing into the woods, as if Satan himself was snapping at her heels. His training as a cop kicked in and he rushed after the girl. Hoping to find her and bring her back before a walker catches her.


	4. Chapter 4

Sophia was running blindly through the woods. Doing what her mama always told her when her daddy start getting mean. Run Sophia, run as fast as you can and hide. So Sophia ran, knowing her mother would find her and protect her again.

Rick quickly caught up to the girl, she was only twelve years after all.

“Sophia, I need you to be quiet. There’s walkers in these woods.”

Sophia nodded, her eyes wide. Mr Grimes was a cop and her mama always told her to trust cops. They were there to protect them. Rick took the girl by the hand, gently leading her away from the danger behind. If he kept the sun on his left he would not only be able to evade the walkers but return to the highway in a loop. The bushes rustled behind them, two walkers stumbled from the underbrush. The moment the walkers smelled them they starting groaning louder and shuffling a bit faster. Rick yanked her on the arm, urging her to run. 

Fifteen minutes later and Sophia already fell three times. Rick was getting a bit irritated. He could not die this way. All he tried to do was safe this girl’s life. Now he was once again separated from his wife and son.

Rick slipped down into the stream, urging Sophia to hurry up. Looking around he found a place for the girl to hide. It was not much, but it would have to do.

“Sophia, honey, please listen to me. I need you to stay here. I’m going to lead the walkers away from you. Then I’ll come back for you.”

Sophia started crying, “Please Mr Grimes. Don’t leave me here.”

Rick nearly changed his plans again. “I have no choice honey. I can’t fire my gun, the noise will attract only more walkers. I’m getting tired. You are already tired. Those things, they don’t get tired. They’ll just keep following us, until we are too tired to carry on. I will come back for you. But to be on the safe side, wait an hour and then go back to the highway. Keep the sun on your left side and you’ll reach the highway again.”

With that he pushed the girl between the tree roots, quietly climbing up the gentle slope, before making as much noise possible to attract the walkers away from the hiding place of the girl.

Sophia heard the cop running away, screaming, hopefully making sure the walkers would be following him. She looked at the Hello Kitty watch on her left wrist. He said she must wait an hour. If he was not back she was to head back to the highway, keeping the sun on her left hand.

Every time Sophia heard a noise, she had to clamp her hands around her mouth. Afraid that it was more of those dead things.

 

TWD TWD TWD

Daryl and T-Dog rushed back towards the rest of the group. Shane grimaced when he saw the boy was still alive. The damn boy must have the luck of the Irish and more lives that an Irish cat. Daryl noticed that Mrs Peletier was crying. It could not be because her husband was not back yet, Daryl may only be nine years old, but he believed she might not like her husband very much. Then he noticed that her daughter was not there. 

“Where’s Rick and Sophia?” T-Dog was a bit out of breath, cursing himself for not exercising more back at the quarry. He was still unfit and huffing and puffing.

Carol only started crying harder, Lori kept shooting daggers in her direction. Dale decided to answer before Lori and Shane could start shooting of their mouths.

“We all believed the walkers were all gone. Sophia just made one small sound and the walker heard her, reaching underneath the car she and Carl were hiding under. Sophia got frightened and ran off into the woods, Rick ran after her to get her back.”

Daryl sat on the guardrail. It would soon be getting dark and neither the girl nor the cop returned. Walsh was hovering around Lori and Carl, for the first time since Atlanta his eyes were not on the young boy. Daryl slipped from the guardrail and quietly made his way to the front of the RV, he already saw the bag with machetes. 

With the practiced silence gained from years of evading his father, Daryl slipped one of the machetes from the bag and slinked away. Even he understood none of these people could track to save their own lives and he seriously doubted whether Grimes could. Dale saw the boy slinking into the woods, but kept quiet. If somebody would be able to bring Sophia back, it would be the young boy.

Nearly an hour later Shane realized Daryl was missing. Silently he hoped the little shit just ran away. He knew for a fact the boy was without a weapon and he would surely come to a sticky end soon enough. He failed to notice on the machetes Carl and Sophia found was missing.

It was close to nightfall when Rick stumbled from the woods. He was panting, sweating and covered in blood. Carol saw him first, then she noticed the blood and started crying again.

“Rick, did you find Sophia?”

The group gathered around the breathless man, Carl handing his father a bottle of water, which he gulped down.

“She not back yet? Yes, I found her, but there were walkers chasing us. I had to hide her and lead the walkers away. I managed to kill the two walkers and came back to the highway.”

“But where is Sophia? Did you not go back to where you left her?”

“I told her to wait an hour before coming back to the highway. I told her to keep the sun on her left side. I thought she was back again.”

Glenn wanted to strangle the man. Sophia is a little twelve year old girl. Would it have killed him to go back to where he left her and made sure she was no longer there before coming back to the highway? Dale went over to the distraught mother and started comforting her.

“Rick, I think you should go back to where you left and her make sure she is not still there.”

Rick did not want to go back into the woods, but he could not leave the child there. Glenn and Shane quickly volunteered to accompany him. 

Glenn sighed and said, “We really could have used Daryl now.”

For the first time Rick realized they were missing two more members of the group. Ed Peletier and Daryl Dixon. “Where is Daryl and Ed?”

Glenn shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t know about Ed. He went in the same direction to scavenge for supplies as Daryl and T-Dog. Since he did not come back with them, I suspect he wandered far enough back and never realized the danger. I don’t think he will be coming back and I don’t think Carol will mourn too much for that useless slob.” 

Glancing at Shane he said with relish, “Daryl took a machete and slipped into the woods. Maybe going to find Sophia. That kid may only be nine years old, but not even his brother was as good a tracker as that boy is.”

Shane was livid, fucking useless Asian shithead. “And you never thought to tell me this when you heard me looking for the boy? Don’t you think you should have opened your mouth the moment you saw him entering the woods?”

“Nope. Like I said. Nobody can track like that boy can. Besides, weren’t you supposed to keep an eye on the kid? You remember you took responsibility for him, promising to raise him? You are practically the boy’s father now, so why did you not keep an eye out for him?”

Shane wanted to slap the Korean boy back to the rice paddies in Korea or whatever it is they grew over there. So the boy thinks he could tell Shane Walsh what to do and how to raise the useless little red neck. Fine. He’ll grant his wish. 

“I tell you what kid. The moment Dixon comes back from his little trip in the woods, he’s all yours. You make sure he starts behaving and not like a little inbred savage. Well, he’ll be all yours right after I’m giving him a spanking he’ll never forget.”

 

TWD TWD TWD

The three men reached the place where Rick stashed the girl. She was no longer there. Glenn hoped Daryl found her and that they were back at the highway. Now that Walsh told him he was responsible for Daryl, he’ll be able to take the boy and leave all the easier. Maybe Dale and T-Dog would come with them, but if they wouldn’t, Glenn will not be too broken up about it. Getting Daryl safely away from Shane Walsh was all that mattered.

Glenn was the one who noticed the deep footsteps in the soft ground. He may be a shit tracker, but even he would not be able to miss those tracks. It seemed like two children made their way up the embankment. 

They followed the deer trail, but since they could not track for shit, they had no clue whether the two children stayed on the trail or veered off into the woods, especially since Daryl was obviously with the girl.

The only sign of the children were just around a bend. A dead walker laid all over the trail, its blood still wet, proving Daryl managed to kill at least one walker. 

 

TWD TWD TWD

It was dusk when the three men returned to the highway, with only Shane hoping the two children did not make it back yet. 

Carol saw the three men emerging from the woods, without her Sophia. It meant that either Sophia was still lost or they only found what remained after walkers got to her. She saw the way T-Dog looked when he came back from looking for Ed. 

T-Dog volunteered to walk back the way they, hoping to either find the missing children or if life really sucked came back with Ed Peletier. He did not find the kids, but at least he found what remained of Ed. He could not help thinking that there was no nicer person left on this earth, it could happen to. Carol and Sophia no longer had to cower in front of the bully. Carol would no longer sport the bruises they all knew were placed there by Ed Peletier, but nobody really wanted to do something about it. He hated himself for being a coward, he knew he should have bitch slapped some sense into the man, but each time he tried to do it, he remembered his first and last boxing match.

T-Dog’s father always wanted to be a boxer, but he never made it. His daddy suffered from a heart condition which immediately benched him from anything strenuous. According to the gospel of his daddy, because he was black he must excel at sports. He was pushed into playing football, basketball and baseball. Soon it became apparent that although he was tall, he lacked the lanky body type of basketball players. For baseball he was too slow. In the end only football remained. Then his daddy met Mike Tyson and he decided he should become a boxer. For five years he lived and breathed boxing. Every afternoon after school was spent at the local boxing gym.

His trainer convinced a promotor to book T-Dog in a match. Everything went fine, until the fifth round. To this day T-Dog does not really remember what happened. All he knows was that the fight was going fine. He never dreamed of knocking Tyson Jackson, his opponent, out, Jackson was a professional with more than fifteen fights under the belt. He just hoped he would not lose too badly on points. He saw Jackson drop his protective stance for just a moment and took his chance. The punch landed, Jackson hit the deck in a dead weight. T-Dog could not believe when the count reached ten. He was so elated. He won his very first match with an honest to goodness knock-out, not a technical knock-out, not on points, but a full blown knock-out. After that it became hazy and chaotic. He remembers the trainers trying to revive Jackson, than the frantic yelling of “For the love of God, somebody call 911!”

His first boxing match became his last. He killed a man in the ring. The subsequent hearing cleared him of all charges. He did not know that Tyson Jackson and his trainers bribed a doctor to give him a clean bill of health. He did not know that Tyson Jackson suffered a serious head injury and that he paid a crooked doctor a shitload of cash to look the other way. But in the end that did not matter. Every time he curled his hands into fists, he would see Jackson in front of him, beaten to death by him.

Ed Peletier was scum of the earth. Men do not terrorize their wives and children, especially not his daughters. Men do not use the women in their lives as punching bags and floor mats. But still he could not raise his hands to the pig.

He was not going to make a show of it and try and cry for the bastard. He deserved to be ripped to pieces and eaten alive. Besides he admired Carol. Even after everything, the years of abuse under Ed Peletier and the end of the world, she still carried herself as a lady. Not a prissy little princess such as Lori Grimes, but a real lady. Carol Peletier had poise and character, it seemed like she was dressed in the most expensive clothing even when all she had on was a pair of jeans and a t-shirt. If he was brutally honest with himself, he was having himself a little school boy crush on her.

TWD TWD TWD

“Where’s the children Rick?”

“Ma’am, Carol, we have not been able to find them. As far as we know Daryl is with Sophia and they are both still alive. We found the remains of a dead walker and it seems that Daryl took the walker down. But it is getting dark, we would not have been able to find them and found only have managed to get ourselves lost in the process. I promise you we’ll start looking at first light.”

“So you mean to tell me that you left two children in the woods alone at night? A twelve year old girl and a nine year old boy. With no food, no water, no shelter and no weapons besides the machete Daryl took with him?”

“Carol, ever since I met you, I’ve been hearing how independent the Dixon boy is. How wild and dangerous he is. Now at the moment the boy seems to want to protect your daughter and as I’ve been told the boy is an excellent tracker and hunter. They will not starve, die of thirst or exposure. Now, I’m tired. I’ve been running up and down the forest for the better part of the day. I’m hungry and I’m thirsty. Unlike Dixon I am unable to hunt and would not know where to search for fresh water. I also need to make sure the rest of the group is safe and protected, should another horde of walkers pass through. That being said I think we should keep constant look-out during the night. There are six men here and we can all take a two hour shift to make sure the group is safe during the night. We should also split into two sleeping groups, one half in the RV, the second in the cube van. Both vehicles would be safe and secure should another horde stumble by.”

T-Dog finally decided to speak up. “Sorry Rick, but there’s only five men. Ed, well, Ed he did not make it.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah man I’m sure. I went looking down the highway, hoping to find either him or the children. I obviously did not find the kids, but I did find Ed.”

The silent “or rather what was left of him” hung in the air. They all knew what happened to a victim who fell before walkers. Those things only left the carcass after it was stripped bare of meat. Rick realized T-Dog must have identified Ed Peletier by the clothes he had been wearing, since not much more than the stripped skeleton would have remained.

Rick and Shane quickly drafted a guard roster, with Rick taking the first shift and Rick assigning the very last shift to Shane. The other three men realized their plan. They wanted to sleep comfortably, assigning the best shifts too themselves. What Dale would have done was draw lots, three of them still would have been assigned the shitty shifts, but it would have been fair at least.

In the end the Grimes family, Shane, Andrea and Amy stayed in the cube truck. The rest of the group huddled in the RV. Glenn, T-Dog, Dale and Carol silently refusing to sleep in the same space as Rick, Lori and Shane.

Carol could not sleep. She knew she was supposed to grieve the gruesome death of her husband, but could really not find the motivation to do so. She was crying for her daughter. The fates could not be so cruel as to deny Sophia a chance to live, especially now that her father was gone.

She kept thinking about Rick and his actions in the woods. Sure he leapt over the guardrail, rushing after Sophia and she could not find fault at that. But why did he feel the need to leave a frightened twelve year old girl alone on the woods? Sophia was not a heavy child. If he was afraid to carry her, why did he not hide her up in a tree? Somewhere the walkers would not have been able to find her and tell her to stay put until he came for her or should something horrible befell him, wait till morning before making her way back to the highway. Why did he not go back to the place he left her, instead returning to the highway, without making sure Sophia was not still were he hid her?

She got it, Sophia was not his, and he did what most men would do for children who were not their responsibility. But she could not help thinking that the man should have done more. He used to be cop, in fact he and Shane kept boasting about the fact that they used to be cops.

The night passed differently for the two separate groups. The group in the cube truck slept comfortably and woke up well rested. Amy felt horrible for Carol, but Andrea convinced her that they would find the girl. Andrea never lied to her, so she was placated. Andrea was worried about Sophia, but not Daryl. And if they never find Sophia, then it was not her problem. She still had her kid sister and if Carol were unable to look after her daughter, she had nobody to blame but herself. Rick slept in peace because he had his wife and son next to him. They were safe. Shane slept the best of them all, knowing that if Sophia and Daryl were never found, Carl would be the only kid the group. The adults’ attention would be on one child and one child only and that would be Carl.

The group in the RV suffered with sleep deprivation, mental anguish and worry. Not one of them could sleep soundly, knowing full well two children were lost in the woods with only a machete for protection. Dale decided to draw out the repairs to the RV as long as possible, to give the lost children every chance of being found, because he knows the moment the RV is fixed, Shane and Lori will push for the group to move on, convincing them that the children were already dead. Not that would matter, he would stay, he knows Carol would stay and believes Glenn and T-Dog will stay as well. 

 

Morning found the group rather tense with each other. Breakfast being a rather bleak and dismal affair.

Rick once again assumed leadership. “I think we should all join the search party. With more eyes out there we will be able to spot the children much faster. Now, for safety reasons, we will be leaving the guns in the cube truck. Only me and Shane will be armed with fire arms. But I will not allow us to be defenseless out there. Instead we will be armed with machetes. Should we encounter a lone walker, gunshots will only attract more walkers.”

Andrea grumbled a bit when Rick confiscated her pistol. It was her personal property and he had no right locking it away, leaving her only with a machete. Dale nodded to Glenn and T-Dog. It would be best if he and T-Dog stayed at the RV, with Glenn joining the group to make sure that Rick and Shane do indeed search for the lost children and do not bully Carol into abandoning the search.

“Uhm, Rick… would it not be better if somebody stayed behind here? Just in case the kids show up while you are gone? Besides, the RV still needs repairs and I can take the time to fix the old girl up.”

“That would be best. I don’t want Sophia to think we abandoned her.”

Dale, T-Dog and Glenn shared a look between them. All thinking the same thing ‘And what about Daryl? Is it only the RV group that cares for that little boy? Unlike Sophia who still had a loving mother, and Carol who not only had both his parents, but the protection of Shane Walsh, the youngest member of their little group had nobody. Obviously his parents died, his brother was left for dead on a rooftop back in Atlanta. He had nobody in this cruel new world.’

Rick continued, not even noticing the look between the three men, “I think T-Dog should stay as well. Since you are going to be busy with the RV’s repairs, you are going to need somebody to watch your back. OK, everybody ready? Everybody armed with a machete?”

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Rick was getting frustrated. They’ve been trudging through the woods for hours now. He was getting tired and hungry. It was clear they were not going to find those two kids. Shane may just be right that they were dead. But Carol and Glen kept pushing to search a bit longer. 

He was getting ready to call it a day, forcing them back towards the highway. He would waste only one more night sleeping in the open, before taking the group and leaving. If Sophia and the boy were not back at first light, then they weren’t coming back. Carol and Glenn just had to face facts.

Just when he opened his mouth to inform the group that they should head back, they could hear church bells ringing. Carol and Glenn started running in the direction of the noise, galvanizing the group into following. They all hoped for the safe return of Sophia at the very least.

Bursting into the clearing it almost seemed as if the world did not go to hell in a handbasket. It was a quaint picturesque church. It was a church that just screamed old fashioned weddings, with the men in tuxedos and the women in big white wedding gowns. The grounds surrounding the church made Rick think of parish lunches after the Sunday church service. Little boys and girls playing innocent games until their parents called them to come eat. It seemed untouched by the harsh world out there.

They burst through the church doors. Hoping to find the children sitting inside. But instead they found six walkers. It seemed that when everything went bad, the couple wanted to be wed, at least in the eyes of God. The bride’s wedding gown, was now also her death robe. Her grimy veil hid any damage done to her face. The groom missed his left arm. The other four, three males and a female could have been the preacher and the parents of the doomed couple. Each missed chunks of flesh from their bodies. Glenn wondered which one of the six were the first infected person. It could not have been the groom, since he missed his arm and they would not have been in a church getting married, if the groom sported such a horrible injury. The original infected must have been either the bride or one of her parents.

Carol took exceptional umbrage at the sight of the rotting bride. With an Amazonia cry she rushed towards the doomed bride and kept on stabbing the walking corpse long after she died for a second time.

Glenn gently removed the machete from Carol’s hands, cooing at the woman, trying to calm her down and console her.

“Hush Carol. It’s okay. She’s dead, they all are. Sophia and Daryl were never here. Shane found a timer. Nobody rang the church bells. The kids were not inside. Besides, Daryl is a tough little boy. He will protect Sophia and bring her back to you.”

After a while Carol’s sobs quieted down. Glenn was right. Daryl Dixon was one tough little kid. Sophia is with Daryl and Daryl will protect her daughter with his life. Even now, lost as they still were, Daryl did more for her daughter than her daddy ever did. He was under no obligation to go after Sophia. But he did. A nine year old boy did more for Sophia than the two cops in the camp did. Unlike Rick, he did not abandon her and unlike Shane he was not about to leave her to face the world alone.

There at the bottom of the wooden cross, looking up at the wooden figure of Jesus, Carol made a silent vow. Whether Daryl came back to them with or without Sophia, she would care for the boy. She would make the boy her own. She will no longer allow the Ed Peletiers and Shane Walshes of this world to look sideways at the child.

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Rick sent the rest of the group back to the highway. He, Shane, after ten minutes of arguing, and Carl would continue the search. Rick convinced them that they would be able to search faster and more efficiently. What he did decide was take the long way back to the highway, without even making the effort to search for the two children.

They were most probably dead in any case and Carol’s hysterics are only endangering the rest of the group. It was time to cut their losses and accept that the two children were dead and gone. He was in no mood endangering his wife and child.

The walk back was almost peaceful, they encountered neither walker nor any trace of them. Birds were singing in the tree, crickets and cicadas nattering about their stupid little insect lives. Carl almost bouncing between him and Shane. Telling him about their rushed escape to Atlanta, camping at the quarry, catching frogs with Shane, not that they were ever successful, Lori cutting his hair, even though he did not want her to cut it. The games he and the other children played at the camp. How he was afraid of Daryl, ever since his mother and Shane warned him to stay away from the boy. How he hoped they would find Sophia soon.

They entered a small clearing in the woods. A lone deer stood there peacefully eating, ignoring the three humans. A ray of sunshine shone on the deer, making her seem almost surreal. Rick believed they now needed a few butterflies, a couple of hummingbirds, three singing mice and a dancing Disney princess to complete the picture.

Carl’s face lit up. It was the first time in his life he saw a deer up close. Carl tugged on Rick’s sleeve.

“Dad, look, a deer.”

“I see Carl. Pretty ain’t she?”

Carl just nodded, a smile plastered all over his face. He took one step closer to the deer. She was still standing still, munching away. Carl kept making small hesitant steps, trying to get as close as possible to the animal. Hoping he would be able to stroke her nose.

Carl was in spitting distance from the deer, left hand outstretched, the goofy smile still plastered on his face. Rick hoped the deer would keep still and allow Carl to pet her. Lord knows his boy needed this. He needed the innocence. He was such a good little boy. 

It seemed like time froze. One moment Carl was standing there, left arm stretched in front of him, reaching towards the deer. The next moment a loud bang, a sound Rick associated with a gun going off. The deer toppled to the side. Carl stood still for a moment, before uttering a small frightened “Oh” and crumpled to the ground.

A man, rifle still clutched in his arms stormed from the woods, eyes wide, mouth screaming. The man was large and from his built it was clear that he used to be a block of muscles in his youth, but allowed his body to go to seed the moment he reached forty.

“Oh God.”

“Sweet Jesus.”

“I did not see him.”

“I did not mean to shoot him.”

He kept muttering those phrases over and over, as if wishing he could take it back. Rick was on his knees keeping pressure on the wound, crying and praying.

The shooter identified himself as Otis, telling them to follow him. He came from a farm not far from there. Hershel would be able to help, he was not a doctor, but a vet, but he would still be able to help. The three men started running. Rick clasped Carl to his chest, not even feeling the weight. The moment Otis stumbled for the third time he gasped the directions to the Greene farm to Rick.

“Tell Hershel I sent you. He’ll help. Hershel is good people.”

Rick nodded “Shane, stay with Otis. Follow us to the farm. The moment you get there, I want you to go back to the highway and fetch Lori. Bring her to me.”

With that Rick took off running, still cradling his son in his arms. Bursting from the woods, ran up the unpaved driveway. He hurriedly opened the gate, they could bloody well come and close the gate behind him. He was not about to waste precious time by closing gates behind him, it was bad enough he had to waste time to open the fucking things.

Reaching the porch two young women ran from the house. Rick guessed they saw his mad dash up their driveway. 

“I’m…looking…for…Hershel…Otis…sent…me…accident…my…son…shot…please…”

Struggling to draw breath, not wanting to let his boy go, afraid that the moment he put his son down, Carl would bleed out and die.

A white haired man came rushing down the stairs, ordering Patricia to boil water and bring it up to the small guest room along with bandages and whatever supplies they may need. He motioned Rick to follow him.

“Sir? Where is Otis? Is it just you and your boy here?”

“Otis is on his way with my friend Shane. The rest of our group is stuck on the highway, including Lori, my wife. I’m Rick Grimes and this is my son Carl.”

“Maggie!”

“Where on the highway exactly are your group. I’m going to send Maggie on horseback to fetch your wife.”

Hershel kept working on Carl, waiting for Rick to answer.

“Uhm, about a mile in after the big pile up starts. We cleared a path up until there. Our group drove in three vehicles, a white cube truck, a cream and brown RV and a blue truck.”

A young woman entered the room, “Maggie, I need you to go to the highway, about a mile in after the pile up you’ll find his group. His wife Lori is there. Bring her here, tell her Rick sent for her and that there was an accident. No need to worry her about the details. Tell the rest of the group to follow in their vehicles. Give them the directions.”

The girl, Maggie, gave a small nod and left. About a minute later Rick heard the sounds of a horse galloping from the yard.

Hershel was still cleaning the wound. They were very unlucky. The bullet was still stuck in the boy’s body. At least he was very well stocked with medical supplies. He can easily remove the bullet. There was just one problem, the intubation tubes were too big for a boy Carl’s size. Without the tube, it would mean he had to operate on the boy, without the benefit of anesthesia, something he dreaded to do.

Patricia entered the room, quite comfortable in assisting Hershel with whatever he needed to do. 

“Rick, I need you to go down stairs and wait on the porch for Maggie. I promise you I will call you if something happens. Right now, I need to stabilize your son and try and assess the damage. Can you do that for me? Wait on the porch for your wife?”

Rick left the room in a days, wiping his bloody hands on his shirt. One thought after the other chased through his mind.

Carl is dying.  
Carl is shot because he wanted to touch a deer.  
Carl was shot because I was forced to search for some stupid drunk’s daughter.  
Daryl fucking Dixon is the reason Carl was shot.

Rick was pacing up and down the porch. He kept thinking that if Carl dies, Daryl Dixon better hope on his miserable life he was already walker food, because he was going to murder him and murder him slowly. He did not even hear the horse coming back. He did not hear Lori’s frantic screaming until she touched him.

“Rick! Oh my god, Rick! What happened? Whose blood is that? Where is Carl? Whose blood is that? Where is Shane? Whose blood is that? Rick Grimes where is our son?”

Rick focused on his wife’s face. Reality slowly came back. He noticed Shane and Otis running across the field. Lori still had a firm grip on Rick, her long nails nearly puncturing his arms.

“There was an accident. We saw this deer, eating in a small clearing. Carl just wanted to get closer to the animal. Otis was hunting and he did not see us, he did not even know Carl was right behind the deer. He shot the deer. The bullet went through the deer and hit Carl.”

Rick and Lori rushed upstairs. Patricia opened the door, motioning them inside.

“Now I’ve got some good news and some not so good. First things first. I’m not a doctor, I’m a vet. Since all this started I’ve doubled as human doctor as well. Don’t be worried, I will do everything in my power to save the life of your son. The good news is that Carl is currently stable and resting. I do have most of the equipment I will need to help Carl. Now for the bad news. Carl lost quite a lot of blood. Do you know his blood type?”

 

Rick nodded “Yeah, B negative the same as mine.”

 

“Okay, that would help a whole lot. I’m going to need you to donate blood. That solves one problem. The other problem is that the bullet is still stuck in Carl. Now I can operate on Carl, and I can use anesthesia on him, but what I do not have is the correct size intubation tube. Without the tube, Patricia cannot help your son to breathe during the operation. I really would not like to operate with that added handicap. Now there is a solution. A few miles down the road is the district high school. When this started, FEMA set up a medical station there. The equipment we will need, along with any other medical supplies will be at that camp. But I do not know how safe it is.”

Shane and Otis were hanging by the door, eager to hear any news regarding the wounded boy. Otis felt very guilty. He should have realised that he was not alone in the clearing. He should have known that the boy was standing right there behind the deer. Both men volunteered at the same time to make the run to the FEMA camp. Both for very different reasons. Otis because he somehow wanted to rectify his mistake. Shane because he needed to curry favour with Rick and especially Lori. Besides, Carl was his son. It was ultimately his responsibility to make sure Carl survived. 

When he saw Hershel inserting the tube into Rick’s vein to start the blood transfer, Shane suffered heart palpitations before remembering Rick’s blood type was B-, the same as his and his son. At least Hershel would not inadvertently be poisoning his son by giving him the wrong blood type.

Hershel made a quick list and gave it to Shane. “The absolute most important item is the intubation tube. Get the tube first and if it is too dangerous to stay and get the rest of the supplies on the list. Leave them. I’ve got all the necessary supplies needed for the operation, except the intubation tube. Please be safe, but hurry. Time is of the essence.”

Rick handed his treasured Colt Python to Shane and Otis grabbed his rifle on the way out. Lori started crying the moment she heard the car leave the farm. She was worried for her son and her son’s father. It near broke her that Shane was not allowed to stay by his son’s bedside, but since Rick believed Carl was his and since she sincerely believed the world would return to normal, she needed to seem to be loyal and true to Rick Grimes.

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Otis was driving, since he knew the area and knew the exact location of the high school / FEMA camp. He kept apologizing for his part in the accident, Shane wished he could punch the man. Part of him knew and understood it was nothing but a horrible hunting accident. Before, these kinds of accidents happened all the time, that was why one had to wear bright reflective clothing in the woods, especially during hunting season. But part of him wanted to strangle the man, leave him by the side of the road to die a slow and horrible death.

Half an hour later Otis slacked off before finally parking the car. “We’re about two miles from the FEMA camp. The last time I came in this direction the place had been overrun by them, we need to walk the last two miles and try and slip into the camp if the place is still overrun.”

The two men exited the truck, silently creeping towards the old high school. The closer they got to the place, the clearer it became that the place was still overrun with walkers. Shane sometimes wondered whether the others realized how silent the world became. Whether he realized how much noise their modern lives caused. There were no trains, aeroplanes or cars in the background. No loud music, loud televisions, loud parties. No car alarms. No police or other emergency service alarms. No telephones ringing. No drunks stumbling home. No more shouting matches or the occasional shot fired. The whole world went silent and whatever sound was left, carried on the cool night air.

The groaning and shuffling got louder until it seemed as if they were surrounded by a horde of walkers. The smell was horrendous, invading every pore in their bodies. When the two men reached the fence, Otis stopped Shane. He pointed to a white mobile home. That is the supply store. Whatever we need, will be in there. Now as you can see, that mobile home is surrounded by them. What I suggest is, we enter the property on the far side, slip through the gymnasium. There is a wide ledge we can use as walkway to reach the mobile home. Those types of mobile homes all have a hatch on the roof for easy and affordable ventilation. We can enter the mobile home from there and slip off the grounds by using the exact route we used to enter. Hopefully before any of them realized we’ve been there.”

Shane nodded. It was a sound plan and one that would not get him killed. Otis once again led the way. “I used to go to school here. I met Patricia here. And look at it now…”

Shane hushed the man before he started crying over his lost youth.

Their entrance into the mobile home went off without a problem. They encountered only one walker in the gymnasium and Shane took care of it before the thing even realized they were there. The quiet shuffle across the ledge to the mobile home was a bit more tense. Shane kept expecting the fat man to fall down and giving away their position. Even opening the hatch, which Shane feared would creak so loudly a deaf walker in the outer reaches of Mongolia would hear it, opened silently, as if the hinges were oiled earlier the day.

It seemed like Christmas in the mobile home, Otis grabbed the correct intubation tube and even grabbed a few spares of different sizes while he was at it. Shane just gathered a variety of supplies and dumped in the duffel bag. He figured they would need stuff like bandages, plasters, butterfly clips, cotton, swabs, thermometers and eye patches. He noticed the scalpels, clamps and other strange medical equipment, which looked more like torture devices and shoved one of each into the duffel bag as well. Finally they made sure to grab a variety of pills, syrups and salves. They really did not have the time to check what everything was, but trusted that Hershel knew and would appreciate the selection of medication on top of the intubation tube and other supplies.

Getting out of the mobile home was were things went to shit and fast. Otis helped Shane out of the mobile home, before handing him the duffel bag. He then dragged a sturdy chair towards the opening, all Shane had to do was assist him getting out. But Shane’s hands slipped, dropping Otis with a crash at the bottom. The sound was loud enough to reverberate over the moaning of the walkers. Of course the dead fuckers in the immediate vicinity took notice and started shoving against the mobile home, trying to reach Walsh.

Since the walkers already knew they were there, being silent did not matter anymore, speed did. With a whole lot of screaming and swearing, Shane was finally able to drag Otis’ fat ass from the mobile home. The walkers were now rocking the mobile home, maybe a core memory reminding them that these things were not anchored to the ground and the right amount of pressure could be tipped over. As fast as they could, the men reached the window they stepped out from. Somehow the walkers gained access to the inside of the gymnasium.

“Oh fucking shit!” Shane was the last to enter the building and it seemed as if he failed to close the door properly. One lucky walker bumped the door, which sprang open and more followed the first lucky winner inside. Their retreat was blocked by about fifty ravenous walkers.

Otis grabbed Shane’s arm, showing him the window on the opposite side. “If we can get to that window we will be able to access the fire escape. The ladder goes up to the roof. From the roof we can ran to the far side of the gym. We will be able to jump from this roof on top of the next building’s roof, since the gap between the buildings is maybe three feet wide. I’m not as young as I used to be, but I can still make the jump and if I can make the jump you would clear the gap with ease. Then all we need to do is run to the far side, escaping from there. It is a bit farther and we have to cross the parking lot, but all the walkers are contained on the inside of the fence and they will be on the opposite side.”

Their run across the gym was nightmarish. Shane wished to save the ammo in the Python and started grinning when he noticed the fireman’s axe three steps down. Otis reversed the grip on his rifle, opting to use the rifle as a club. With more than half the walkers still snapping at their heels, the men reached the window, smashing it open with the axe. 

The ruckus on the inside of the gym attracted more of the walkers on the outside and soon the gym was packed with shoving and snarling walkers. Not that Shane was overly depressed about that. The more of these dead fuckers inside the gym, moaning at the open window, the less walkers would be on the outside.

Every step of the way went peachy, until Shane lost his footing, slipped and fell of the roof. At least he did not break anything, but he twisted his ankle badly. Mentally saying farewell to his lover and his son, Shane handed the duffel bag over to Otis.

“Get going man, take this back to the farm.”

Otis hesitated for a moment, before helping Shane to his feet, looping his left arm around Shane’s middle and helping his hobble away.

“No way man. I am not going to leave you here for those things.”

Their progress was slow and painful, made they were making their getaway, until the walkers on the inside of the fence managed to knock the fence down. Shane begged Otis to take the duffel bag and run, but every time Otis refused, calmly stating that he will not leave another human being to be ripped to pieces.

Shane realized that with Otis refusing to leave him behind and taking the supplies back to the farm they were both going to die and then his son was going to die. Besides he wanted to live, he wanted to live in a world with Lori and Carl at his side. Maybe another child, but no more than two children. His princess was not a brood mare. He wanted a future where Carl would call him ‘dad’.

Shane slipped the Colt Python from his holster, quickly and quietly cocking the weapon. 

“Sorry man, but Carl needs this supplies and we’re not both going to make it.”

Days later Shane could still see the look of utter surprise on Otis face as he shoved the cold barrel of the Python against this stomach. The look of horror when he realized Shane was not joking and the gut wrenching scream of pain when he shot Otis in the stomach.

Shane tried to grab the duffel bag and rifle, but Otis started fighting him for it. Did the idiot not realize his days on this planet was over? Even without the walkers coming in their direction, Otis would not live to see the sun rise again.

“Let go of the duffel bag you piece of shit! My life is more important than your life and Carl’s life is even more important than that”

The two men rolled around on the ground, fighting for possession of the rifle and the duffel bag. Otis was weakening and in a final last ditch effort he grabbed a fistful of Shane’s hair. Shane could feel each and every hair being ripped from his skull. With a loud and pained scream, Shane punched the doomed man in the face, poking a finger into his right eye. 

The pain of a hard object hitting him in the eye, made Otis relax his grip on Shane’s hair and with a final jerk, Shane tore free from Otis’s grasp. He grabbed the rifle and the duffel bag, ignoring the pain in his ankle, walking as fast as he dared back towards the car.

Behind him he could hear Otis’ gut wrenching raw screams as the first walker reached him and started ripping pieces of flesh from his body.

All the way back to the farm, Shane practiced his story, even managing to cry a bit. In Shane’s mind Otis deserved to die. He needed to be punished for his crimes against Carl. And the penalty was death. Quite a few of his practice speeches failed because Shane kept laughing at the demise of Otis. He managed to contain his emotions, plastering a mask on his face. A mask that said to the idiots out there that he was worried out of his mind for Carl Grimes, but shocked and saddened to the core at the sudden and violent death of Otis, but also making sure that the admiration and respect for Otis’ heroic actions bled though to his voice.


	5. Chapter 5

Daryl was sitting on the guardrail. It was getting late and would soon be dark. Mr Grimes and Sophia were not back yet. Glancing backwards, he saw Walsh fawning over Mrs Grimes and Carl. For the first time since the man told him Merle was not coming back, he forgot all about Daryl. Daryl knew this was the golden opportunity to slip away from the group and try and make it on his own. Maybe he would get lucky and another group will find him and take him in.

Walsh took his knife and his bow, but he noticed the bag with machetes. If he was silent and quick enough, he could grab a machete and be long gone before Walsh even realized Daryl Dixon was missing. For a brief moment Daryl was afraid, afraid to be a nine year old kid alone in the world, afraid that he would die alone, afraid that he would never find people that would take him in and not look at him as if he was the rat caught eating the cheese. Then Daryl noticed Mrs Peletier. Her daughter was in the woods and neither she nor Mr Grimes knew the woods.

He remembered the time he was lost in the woods. It was about a month after his mother died and they moved to the old cabin. Will Dixon was drunker and meaner than usual and Daryl just bolted. In his rush he forgot his knife and his bow. He just ran and before the frigthenend little boy realized what happened, he was lost.

He was lost for a week. Sleeping at nights up in a tree, spending his days trying to find any familiar landmarks and something to eat. He ate anything and everything he could lay his hands on. Berries, leaves and grass. A week later he stumbled onto a familiar deer trail and five hours later he stumbled into the cabin. Will was not home. Daryl wondered if his father even realized he was not there. He wondered if Will was looking for him. The first thing Daryl did was raid the kitchen cupboards, found half a loaf of slitghtly stale bread, retieved the jar of peanut butter he hid away and made himself a sandwich. He nearly inhaled the sandwich. Will Dixon came home two weeks later, without ever realized his five year old son had been lost in the woods.

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Daryl saw Glenn looking at him, giving him a little nod, before turning away, allowing Daryl to slip into the woods. It was quite easy following the tracks made by Sophia and Mr Grimes. He saw exactly were Mr Grimes met Sophia. Why did the man not turn around then and there? Why did he go deeper into the woods? He followed their trail for about ten minutes when he noticed the new tracks. Two walkers started following them, but judging by their gait, both were crippled. Walker A’s left leg were much shorter than the right. Walker B’s right foot was dragging, it seemed like the leg was badly broken either right before or sometime after he turned. Getting away from the two walkers should have been a cake walk for Mr Grimes, but the man started running, dragging Sophia with him. 

Why did he not pick her up and run if he was too afraid to take the walkers out? Sophia is just a little girl and not very heavy. Daryl scratched his head, but continued to follow the trail. He reached the creek, noticing the sliding tracks going down the embankment, with only Mr Grimes returning and continueing down the path. At least the two walkers followed him. Daryl slid down to the water, hoping to find signs of Sophia. 

Daryl heard her before he even saw her. He could not believe the place where Mr Grimes hid the girl. It was not even safe. She was hidden from view beneath an upended tree’s roots and the long grass growing over the embankment, but she was not safe and secure. Sophia would have been much safer if Mr Grimes lifted her into a tree, before drawing the walkers off.

“Hey, little girl… Sophia right? Come on, let’s go back to the highway.”

The moment Sophia realized it was just the Dixon boy and not one of those dead things, she nearly strangled him. She hung around his neck crying. Relieved that somebody alive came looking for her, even if it was just Daryl.

Daryl stared at the weeping girl, before carefully removing the red rag from his back pocket, offering it to her. Sophia sniffled, drying her tears and blowing her nose. Daryl took the rag, shoving it back in this pocket without a care.

“Okay Sophia, we are going to take a shorter route back to the highway. So don’t be worried if we don’t go back the same way you came in.”

Daryl grabbed the girl’s hand before leading her back to the highway. He wondered if Mr Grimes found his way back to the highway, not that he was too worried about him. What kind of man leaves a frightetened little girl in the woods? And he was supposed to be a cop. He knew the world kind of went to the dogs, but what happened to the cops’ motto of ‘To protect and serve’? Or did cops like Mr Grimes and Walsh only protect those they liked?

Sophia was a smart little girl. She kept quiet and followed Daryl nearly noiselessly. Her silence saved them when they found the walker. At least this time Sophia did not run off, but stayed behind Daryl. Daryl was glad Merle taught him how to take care of the walkers. Merle never wanted Daryl to be as helpless as he had been when he was still in the care of their father. Merle just reminded him that these things weren’t alive anymore and Daryl was not killing another human being. He was in fact showing them a small act of mercy and kindness.

‘Daryl, I know they look like humans. But they’re not. Whatever made them human, made them laugh, made them cry, it is gone. You’ll be doing them a kindness to release their bodies.’

Daryl cried the first time he killed a walker, but Merle just hugged him and told him he was proud of him. He reminded him that if that man could he would have thanked Daryl for releasing him so that he can now rest in peace.

With practiced ease Daryl snuck up behind the walker, quickly shoving the machete into the skull of the walker. He twisted the blade a few times, just to make sure it was finally dead. Daryl grabbed Sophia’s hand leading her away from the dead thing on the ground. Ten minutes later they ran into a bit of trouble. Their groans gave them away and this time it was not just one walker. It sounded like about ten of them, stumbling through the woods.

“Sophia, we need to leave the trail. There is a lot of walkers coming our way. We need to be quiet, but hurry. Don’t let go of my hand. I will protect you and get you back to your mother. Trust me.”

Sophia gave Daryl a watery smile gripping his hand tighter. “Maybe Mr Walsh was wrong about Daryl and his brother. If they were really bad, then why did Daryl come look for me? If Daryl really was a bad little boy he would have left me all alone like Mr Grimes has done and save only himself.”

Daryl and Sophia hurried deeper into the woods. Each time Daryl believed it was safe to turn back to the highway, he encountered groups of walkers. By nightfall Daryl helped Sophia into a tree, before climbing up himself. They would need to spend the night. They were both tired and while Daryl could still find their way back to the highway they would not be able to see danger in their way.

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Sophia knew she should not have accepted Daryl’s jacket and his shirt. But she was so cold and the moment Daryl saw her shivering he removed the clothes, assuring her that he would be fine. But because he was so cold, his hands slipped and he fell from the tree. Sophia thought he died. There was so much blood. But he was only unconscious, and after a few minutes frantic calling, the boy came to.

But now he did not know the way they were going, his eyes looked the same her Daddy’s eyes looked when he was drunk. Sophia wanted to save Daryl like he saved her and she took him by the hand, promising him she would get them back to the highway.

The two children stumbled through the woods. Sophia leading the boy deeper and deeper into the woods, sometimes walking them in circles and only realized something was wrong when she found her doll on the ground. She did not even realize the dolls slipped from her waistband.

At first Sophia stared at the ragdoll on the ground. Wondering where the little girl was who lost her doll and not only that, but the doll looked exactly the same as her doll. When she realized that she lost her doll and that the doll on the ground was hers, Sophia crumpled to the ground, hugging the doll close to her chest.

She got them lost. Daryl was injured and she got them lost. They were going to die in the woods because she got them lost. She promised Daryl she would save him.

Daryl drunkenly patted Sophia on the head. His head hurt, his left side hurt, he was seeing two Sophia’s crying in the dirt in front of him and he was nauseous, at least his stomach was empty.

“S’kay. Don’ worry. I tol’ ya I’ll get ya back to your mother…”

 

Sophia and Daryl stumbled along. They were tired, hungry and very thirsty. Sophia could hear the water and started running in the direction of the sound of water, dragging Daryl behind her. Her tongue felt swollen and as dry as dust in her mouth.

The two children carefully slid down toward the water. Sophia knew it would not do if Daryl hurt his head again. The water was heaven, they did not even care if it was not clean. They were too thirsty about worrying about it. Their parched bodies soaked up the water like two dirty little spunges.

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Daryl was glad they found the empty farmhouse. The windows were still boarded up and although the front door stood wide open, there was no hidden surprises on the inside. The front door key was still on the inside of the door and after the locked the front door, Sophia helped Daryl in dragging two of the heavy sofas from the living room, in front of the door. 

The two children went upstairs, before finally picking one of the bedrooms. Daryl removed blankets and pillows from the other rooms, before barricading their bedroom door with a heavy wooden vanity unit. He made a bed for himself on the floor and let Sophia sleep on the bed. 

“Daryl, you can’t sleep on the floor. You are hurt, take the bed. I will be fine on the floor. The little bed you made is much softer than my camping bed and I’ll be fine.”

A shocked and scandalized look crossed Daryl’s face. Him sleep on the bed and let a girl sleep on the floor? Merle would skin him alive if he ever knew Daryl did something like that.

“No no no no. You’re a girl and girls don’t sleep in the dirt. If we had to spend the night on the outside, then it would not matter. But there is a bed. I may be only a Dixon, but Merle raised me right. Take the bed, I’ll be fine on the floor.”

Sophia smiled. She was deeply touched by the boy’s Southern charm and chivalry. He sure could teach her daddy how to treat women. With a shock she realized Daryl said Merle raised him right, so that would mean if Daryl treated her with respect and protected her, then Merle must have been a decent man too. 

Sophia made a silent vow to make sure everybody in the camp heard all about Daryl and how he treated her and that if Merle raised Daryl, then they were wrong about Merle as well.

 

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By dawn’s early light the two children were ravenous. Daryl quietly went downstairs. All the windows and doors were still locked. At least they were still safe. He quickly searched the house and found a small stash of food in the kitchen. The food consisted of two bottles of water, four tins of sardines and a packet of crackers. His stomach growled at the sight of the food, but there was not enough for the both of them. Grabbing the water, one tin of sardines and the packet of crackers, Daryl made his way up to the bedroom. He’ll let Sophia eat the food, but he would take a bottle of water. 

Sophia eyed the food hungrily. She never liked the smell and taste of sardines, but hunger was a great motivator. Nothing seemed as good as that little tin of sardines and crackers.

Daryl placed the tin of sardines, crackers and one bottle of water on the bed in front of Sophia,

“It’s not much, but I’ll try and lay some snares a bit later. Maybe we’ll get lucky and catch a rabbit. Maybe if we’re real lucky somebody finds us and takes us back to the group.”

Daryl carefully opened the tin of sardines for Sophia, before purposefully turning away. He was afraid if he kept looking at the food, he would do something horrible and grab the food away from her.

“Daryl, come on, we’ll share. Like you said, it’s not much, but at least it’s something.”

Daryl gulped. Who knew sardines could smell so delicious?

“Nah, it’s alright. I already ate my tin of sardines in the kitchen. I’m sorry, I could not wait. Don’t eat all the crackers, there was only one packet left. I’m gonna go outside and find us some more water and lay a few traps. Maybe we’ll be eating rabbit for dinner.”

 

“Daryl what about the doors? If open them, how am I supposed to drag the furniture in front of it?”

Daryl gave a small smirk. He already decided to fashion a rope from a few of the bedsheets. He could climb down from one of the second story windows, Sophia can drag his bedsheet rope back and throw it down once he comes back. He was also going to make snares from ripped strips of sheet.

An hour later, Daryl slid down his home made rope, waiting until Sophia dragged the sheet back through the window. He silently slipped into the woods, looking for tell-tale signs of wildlife, laying snares whenever he saw the small rabbit trails, coming and going from the direction of the water. He hoped somebody out there was listening to small little red neck boys and led a rabbit to one of his snares.

Daryl then returned to the farmhouse. He saw an old hand pump on the outside of the home and already tested it. Clean clear water rushed from the pipe. At least they had a steady supply of fresh water and he needed to fill about fifty empty bottles full of water. By the time the bottles were filled and back in the house, it would be time to return to his snares, once again shooting a little prayer to anybody friendly out there that he caught at least one rabbit in his snares.

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Sophia found a basket in one of the closets. She sent the basket down with the rope and Daryl tied a simple slipknot around the handle of the basket. Without loading the basket to heavy, since Sophia still had to drag the rope back up, he started sending bottles of water up. 

“This is the last bottle of water Sophia. It is the biggest one and I’m sorry it’s so heavy.”

Ten minutes later a very tired Sophia gave a small whoop of victory, sticking her head out of the window she gave a very toothy grin down to Daryl.

“Sophia, I’m gonna check on my snares. Let’s hope well be eating rabbit tonight. I’ll be away for at least an hour, maybe longer if I trapped a rabbit. I don’t want to skin the rabbit close to home.”

Sophia felt like a Disney princess, locked in a castle seeing her prince off on his way to slay the dragon. Life with her daddy taught her that praying he would become a better daddy did not work neither praying for him to disappear from their lives, but Sophia sent a small prayer up towards the sky for the safe return of one brave little boy. She did not even care if he did not manage to trap a rabbit, she just wanted him safe back in the house.

The first two snares were empty and Daryl left them there. He would check again in the morning maybe by then he would find a trapped rabbit, or even a squirrel. His last two snares each had a rabbit trapped. Daryl quickly killed the rabbits, there was no reason to make them suffer, before skinning and cleaning them. He buried the offal, not wishing to attract the attention of walkers, before rushing back to the farmhouse.

 

Daryl slowly roasted the two rabbits over the fire he made in the fire place. At least there was still some salt in the pantry, but nothing more. Sophia was hovering close by, sniffing the air, salivating at the smell of meat roasting. She knew Daryl must be starving by now, as she realized he lied about eating that morning. She saw the three remaining tins of sardines in the pantry and when she checked the rubbish bin, there was no proof that Daryl ate as much as a cracker.

She sat there crying for the little boy. A little boy who made sure she had something to eat, a boy who had to watch and listen to her eating a tin of sardines and a few crackers, while all he had was a bottle of water. 

She already had a little crush on him, because he saved her life down by the creek, but he continued saving her and protecting her. He made sure she had a soft bed to sleep in, while he slept on the ground. He made sure she had something to eat, starving himself in the process. By the time Daryl returned with the two skinned rabbits, Sophia was ready to give the boy a big fat kiss on the mouth. He was her hero and in her mind he was so much better than Superman and Batman combined.

The two children stripped the one rabbit to the bones, even sucking all the juices from the little bones, making sure they did not miss one ounce of food. The second rabbit was placed in a dish in one of the other empty bedrooms upstairs. That would be their dinner the following night whether Daryl managed to trap more rabbits or not.

That night the two children slept peacefully, content with their stuffed stomachs.

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Three days later and the two children were once again without food. Daryl returned to his snares each morning and night and returned empty handed to the farmhouse. The last time he ate was their third night in the farmhouse. Sophia tried to share the sardines with him, but Daryl refused. He could not allow the girl to go hungry. He was used to hunger, it was not as if Will Dixon fed him on a regular basis.

He felt like crying when he once again returned to the farm house empty handed. Sophia ate the last of the sardines and crackers this morning. All they had left was the water. It was also as clear as day that nobody was looking for them. Daryl did not think anybody would waste a second to look for him, but he hoped they would care enough about Sophia and Mrs Peletier to at least look for the girl.

Daryl struggled to climb his makeshift rope. He was getting weaker, surviving only on water. When Sophia saw Daryl climb through the window, once again empty handed she crumbled to the floor, crying. She cried because she was hungry, but mostly she was crying because she knew Daryl must be starving. She at least had something to eat this morning, Daryl did not. He refused to even lick the tin clean.

Daryl clumsily gave the girl a hug.

“I’m sorry Sophia. I think we best be leaving in the morning. Nobody’s looking for us and I’ve not been able to catch food. I don’t know if we’ll find your Mom, or food, or even other people. But I promise you, I’ll make sure you find somebody to look after you.”

Their last night in the farm house was even worse than their first night stuck in the tree. Back then they still had hope that somebody would find them. 

Daryl filled as many bottles of water they could possibly carry. He fashioned two make-shift backpacks to carry the bottles of water, after making sure that the load Sophia had to carry was not as heavy. Will Dixon was the direct cause of many of Daryl’s insecurities, and if Daryl stayed trapped in his father’s clutches, he would not have gone after Sophia in the first place and he sure as hell would have made sure Sophia carried the heavier load. But Merle raised him these last two years. He made sure that Daryl knew to treat women (and girls) with respect. Always to say please and thank you, never to keep your hat on in the presence of a lady, whether said lady was eight or eighty and never to let a lady carry a heavy bag.

 

It’s been two days, their water supply was dangerously low and Daryl took to skipping most of his rations. Not only was he trembling from the hunger, but he was getting dehydrated. Licking his parched lips, it felt more like a dead bloated animal touching his lips than his own tongue.

If they were not so hungry and thirsty, Daryl might have appreciated the beauty surrounding them. The path he found was wide, fairly even and most importantly clear of any danger. On their right side they could hear the babbling of the creek they found so long ago. 

Daryl was hoping to find a safe place to reach the creek and fill their water bottles, but so far they had not been lucky. It was almost a straight drop down to the water, with trees and rocks covering the ground. One false step and they could fall, probably break their necks or bashing their skulls open.

Daryl heard the tell-tale rattle before he even saw the snake. With a grunt he managed to push Sophia out of the way, taking a wild swing with his machete. Proving that somebody out there must look after lost little children, Daryl managed to kill the snake, its head dropping to the ground on one side of the blade and the rest of its body curling into itself on the other side.

The adrenaline rush unsettled the young boy and he lost his footing, falling down the ravine. At least he managed to avoid getting his sorry behind killed, the last tumble he face planted and then there was nothing.

…  
…  
…  
Will Dixon folded his big leather belt around his fist, snarling ‘Come here boy! You and me’s about to have ourselves a nice little conversation.”

Daryl’s head hung low, nearly crawling on his belly to where his father stood. He knows what happens whenever he and his dad were having a nice little conversation. Those little conversation’s always ended with Daryl cut open. Monday morning everybody else in school would pretend not to see the split lip, the bruise on his cheek, the puffy black eye and the stiff way the young boy would move. Not even the teachers cared. And why should they? Daryl was only a Dixon, one of the unclean in town. People pretended not to notice his father either, unless he spoke directly to them.  
…  
…  
…  
Between the crack of the leather belt and the agonizing stripe of pain on Daryl’s back he heard Merle’s voice “No more little brother. Will Dixon will never touch you again. You have to wake up. Sophia is crying. You have to WAKE UP!”

Daryl shot up from the ground, screaming in pain. Every part of his body hurt from his fall, blood poured from a wound on his head (not that Daryl worried about that one, head wounds always bled something fierce), his left arm felt numb and burning with pain at the same time and a quick glance confirmed his fears, he managed to break the arm again. The last time his left arm was broken, was the last time his father had a little conversation with him, right before Merle rescued him, and a variety of bumps, scrapes, cuts and bruises.

Standing at the bottom looking up to Sophia, Daryl tried to find the easiest route to the top. It became very clear that there was not easy route, he just had to suck it up and start climbing. The rustling behind him bothered him. Call it his hunter instinct, but somehow he did not believe a nice fat deer was about to leap from the woods. He just knew it was a walker or two, so he best start climbing and make sure about what he uses as a foot or handhold. If the rustling was a walker, he did not want to fall down and end up face down in the water, rinsed and ready for one of those things to staring eating him. He had to get to the top to Sophia. He promised the girl he would get her safely to her mother and he would do it, even if it killed him.

Daryl just started climbing when he heard a scream coming from Sophia, she pointed in the direction Daryl heard the rustling bushes. Taking a quick glance back confirmed his fears. It was not one but four walkers, all stumbling from the woods, most probably drawn by the sound of Sophia’s frantic calling and the smell of Daryl’s blood.

Daryl just continued to climb, his left arm hindering his progress, but the fear of being eaten alive and in front of Sophia spurred Daryl on. Gritting his teeth, ignoring the blinding pain in his arm, Daryl climbed. Halfway up and at least out of their range, Daryl looked down. The four walkers were groaning right beneath him, their dead hands making grabby motions in his direction. Daryl could ignore their stench, life with Will Dixon certainly prepared him to withstand the over powering stench beneath them. But it was the snapping of their mouths and the sounds they were making that drove an ice cold spike of fear straight into Daryl’s heart.

“Please don’t let me fall. Please help me to the top. I need to take Sophia to her mum.”

Daryl was grunting and groaning, almost louder than the four dead things beneath him. Sophia pacing up and down, whimpering. Suddenly the girl stopped pacing and slapped herself on the forehead. She suddenly remembered the rope Daryl made from sheets. They left that rope at the farmhouse, but she could take her sheet and lower it down to Daryl, maybe he would be able to reach it and she could help him to the top.

Daryl choked back a scream when something touched his face, he nearly let go from the fright, but at the last moment he gripped harder on the rocky outcropping. The walkers growled in frustration, somehow sensing that their dinner was lost to them. Their growls made Daryl focus and he realized the thing that touched his face was the bedsheet. Sophia lowered the sheet to help him reach the top.

With renewed determination and quite a few colorful swear words he learned from his father, words that always made Merle wash out his mouth with soap, Daryl made it to the top. He flopped boneless on his back, staring at the teary and relieved face of Sophia, his eyes shifted a bit, focusing on the clear blue sky above them. He made it. A ghost of a voice echoed in his mind “Didn’t I always tell you little brother? Dixons are tough. Nothing kills a Dixon but a Dixon.”

 

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Andrea was sitting on top of the RV, fiddling with the rifle in her hands, every now and again scowling when she hear Lori’s voice. She was irritated beyond reason. The sooner these alpha males realized this was the 21st century and women have been free a long time, the better.

She would no longer play their little servant girl. No more cleaning duty for Andrea Harrison, no more washing clothes, cleaning tents, cooking meals. She took shooting lessons and she was damn good at it too. Her instructor told her so, a rather butch looking woman, whose car had been plastered with little jewels like “A woman needs a man like a fish needs a bicycle”. Every Saturday night Sam, do not call me Samantha or Sammie, went to the roughest bar she could find and started fist fights with men, just to prove she had a bigger set of brass balls than the men in the establishment, a rough woman who preferred her lovers to be petite submissive young women, Andrea lost count at the number of times she had to bail Sam out of prison for beating the stuffing out of her current lover, but hey, at least it was not a fucking man beating them up.

Not only that, but she was not an ignorant country bumpkin like the rest of the group. She was a lawyer, a highly sought after civil rights attorney, the youngest partner in her law firm, spacious corner office, luxurious penthouse apartment with all the necessary (and unnecessary) modern trappings. She recycled, was a card carrying member of PETA, drove an eco-friendly car, had a nose for finding high profile cases where one minority or the other’s civil rights were impeded and loved defending poor victims against police brutality, always managing to make her clients seem like right little angels, even when they were so rotten to the core not even Satan wanted them in hell.

Every now and again Andrea would grab the rifle and sweep the boundary, looking through the scope of the rifle, just because she could and because Dale had the audacity to tell her to use the binoculars and not the rifle scope. From the corner of her eye she saw movement. Two dirty figures stumbled from the woods. 

“Walkers! Two walkers at the edge of the woods!”

Of course her cries brought all of the men from the woodwork, each grabbing a machete, before running to towards the figures. Dale stopped and started preaching, again!

“Let Rick handle this. Do not shoot, we don’t want the noise to attract more walkers to our location.” 

With a sneer Andrea saw the old man running after Rick, Shane, Glenn and T-Dog. How dare he tell her what to do? She would be able to take the two walkers out before the men even reached them, and the nonsense about the noise attracting more walkers? Bullshit! This was the first walkers they’ve seen since the highway.

Taking aim, Andrea settled down, she was ready. She was going to take the shot and prove to those damn men she was just as good as them. 

 

The men neared the two walkers. T-Dog’s heart clenched when he realized it was just two little kids, seeing them made him think of Daryl and Sophia. The two children from their group who were still lost. Every day he and Glenn would go out and look for them, but it was more a daily act of wishful thinking, hoping they would stumble across their two lost little lambs than any skill on their part.

Glenn was the first to recognize the two. It felt like a punch in the gut. Both children never knew any real pleasure in life and now they never will.

Dale recognized them a second later, “Oh God, it’s…”

“Daryl and Sophia.” Glenn finished Dale’s sentence, heartbroken sorrow bleeding through his voice.

 

Andrea had one of the walkers in her sight. It did not bother her in the least that they used to be children. One used to be a boy and one a girl. Noticing the blood stains on the boy, Andrea decided she knew what happened. The boy got infected first and after he turned, he did what all little boys would eventually do, attack little girls. He would be the first to die. She took aim, her finger curling around the trigger, a determined sneer on her face.

 

Tears started streaking down Glenn’s cheeks when the walker, who used to be Daryl, lifted his head, looking straight at him.

It opened its mouth, Glenn waited for the groan, before it would lunge at them, ready to bite.

 

Andrea pulled the trigger. The sound of the gunshot ringing loudly in the still afternoon. She saw with great satisfaction as the first walker flew backwards.


	6. Chapter 6

The moment Sophia started screaming they knew. These children weren’t dead, they weren’t walkers. They were dirty and the boy was bloody, but he was still alive when Andrea shot Daryl. Glenn fell to his knees next to Daryl, looking for the wound. Hands frantically searching the thin body of the child, hoping and praying for a miracle. Suddenly the boy on the ground stirred and groaned. Glenn’s heart sank to the bottom of his stomach.

“…Sophia…”

The tears started flowing then. Glenn grabbed Daryl frantically searching for a bullet wound, before noticing the bleeding gash on the left side of Daryl’s head. Seems like Andrea went for a headshot but luckily only grazed Daryl.

Still cradling Daryl in his arms Glenn snarled, “Andrea better stay the holy fuck away from me. I’ve never been inclined to slap a woman, but I swear if she comes near Daryl again, I’ll beat the fucking snot out of that bitch!”

“Glenn, I’m sure it was just a mistake…”

“Do not tell me it was just a mistake Grimes! We told her to leave the walkers be. We told her we would take care of the problem. But no, little Miss Civil Rights Attorney wants to prove she’s got the biggest set of steel balls on the farm. She wants to protect the farm, stand guard, fine. But she better get some fucking training first. And taking potshots at whatever she deems a threat does not count as training.” 

Glenn stood up, still holding the injured child in his arms. 

“Come Sophia. Let’s get you to your Mama. She’s been worried sick about you.”

“What about Daryl?”

“Don’t you worry about Daryl. We’ll get him fixed up in no time and I’m sure your mother and Hershel, Mr Greene to you, will let you visit Daryl once he’s feeling a bit better.”

Halfway to the farmhouse a huffing Andrea met the group. She realized she fucked up. But how was she supposed to know the children weren’t walkers? Better safe than sorry, right? Besides she only shot the Dixon boy, it was not as if it was somebody important.

Seeing the look on Glenn’s face suddenly made her change her tactic. Who knew the mild mannered Korean kid could look so dangerous?

“Oh my God… Is he all right? I did not mean to shoot him…”

“Get the fuck out of my way Andrea.”

A hurt look swept across Andrea’s face. Glenn never opposed the others in the group. He always deferred to Shane or Dale and lately Rick. But here he was, snarling and swearing at her.

“I was only protecting the farm Glenn, trying to do my part.”

“Well Annie Oakley, I suggest you go and wash a fucking shirt if you want to do your part.”

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Hershel knew these people would be nothing but trouble. He would never show somebody away with an injured kid and heavens know, he and his family did everything in their power to save the Grimes child. Otis gave his life to save the boy. But they have been a week on the farm and except for Glenn and T-Dog none of the others went out to search for the two missing children. Beth and Patricia kept Carol close to them. There would be no reason for the mother of one of the missing children to get lost or killed in the woods. Besides in her state, she would be no good anyway.

But the others? What excuse did they have? Rick and his wife refused to leave the bedside of Carl. Rick could have joined the search, his son was out of danger and his mother was still here. Shane offered some lame excuse of twisting his ankle when he and Otis went for the medical supplies. Funny how he only remembered to limp when he realized somebody was looking in his direction. Except for Glenn, T-Dog and Carol none of the others offered to help with chores around the farm.

When he saw Andrea on top of the RV, with the rifle casually slung over her right shoulder he warned his family to stay in the house. If they stayed out of her way, the chances of any of them getting shot by the uptight woman was zero. They were all in the kitchen, starting to prepare lunch when they heard the screaming, a minute later the shot rang out.

Hershel ran from the kitchen, prepared to chase these locusts away from his farm. He asked one thing of them, no guns in the vicinity of the farmhouse, no shooting close the house. He fed them with food from his table. He allowed them on his property and they set up camp with a finality that made Hershel believe he would never be able to get rid of them. And they broke his no-guns rule with absolute relish.

“Hershel!”

Glenn called in a panic to the old man. He desperately wanted to impress the old man, since he was hopelessly smitten with his daughter. Now that he’s found Daryl, or maybe Daryl found them, he was willing to kiss Hershel’s feet and beg him to allow him and Daryl to stay. Maybe on the farm Daryl would finally be able to live like a kid. 

Of course he cared about Carol, Sophia, Dale and T-Dog, but his main concern was Daryl Dixon and Maggie. If Carl was not such a snotty little brat, he might have been more worried about him, but at least the boy had both his parents and Walsh to look after him and pamper him. Daryl Dixon had nobody and he may still be nothing more than an ex-part time student and ex-full time pizza boy, but he was not stupid. 

The way the group treated the Dixon brothers, spitting on them and calling them every foul name possible, even to their faces, but still grabbing the food from their hands, without even so much as a thank you. The way Rick’s eyes gleamed when he learned that Daryl was a seasoned hunter and tracker, it made Glenn believe they would want to use the child as nothing more than an attack dog.

He knew the moment Daryl outgrew his usefulness to the group, they would kick the boy out. The rest of the group only tolerated the Dixon brothers, because they hunted and kept the group fed. And maybe Rick won’t chase a little boy away, turn him out in the new world, without a worry, but Walsh would. And that bastard won’t even miss a second of sleep doing it.

But why was Rick pushing Hershel so badly to stay on the farm? Hershel made it perfectly clear that they were only guests and would need to leave soon. But still Grimes, Walsh and Lori kept pushing and pushing the old man and sooner or later they would push too far.

Seeing the boy in Glenn’s arms made Hershel’s heart clench. Did Andrea shoot an innocent young child? A girl’s sobbing drew his attention next. Suddenly Hershel made the connection. This must be the two lost children. Somehow two children managed to survive in the woods and managed to find the farm, only to be shot by a trigger happy woman. 

“Patricia! Maggie! Take him upstairs, the room next to Carl.” 

Patricia and Maggie appeared in the door, eyebrows raised, a silent question. 

“Patricia, you know what to do. Hot water, bandages, antibiotic salve, antibiotics, painkillers, the works. Maggie, go and find Carol, I guess this is little Sophia?”

The girl grabbed Daryl’s left foot, refusing to take her eyes off her hero. She only nodded when the kind old man called her by her name.

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An hour later a tired Hershel emerged from the room. Carol was in the living room with a clean and fed Sophia on her lap. Maggie and Glenn sat next to each other, holding hands.

“Glenn, Carol, I’m not accusing you, but I need answers. And, so help me, if I do not like the answers you give me, the whole lot of you, minus Daryl, will be gone from this farm before sundown. Do I make myself clear?”

Glenn wondered what happened. What did Hershel see or hear while he was treating Daryl, to make him so hostile towards the group? They could only nod, hoping to be able and answer Hershel to his satisfaction.

“I’m an old man and I’ve learned to tolerate and accept a great deal of things. I had to accept when my two little girls started growing up and bringing boyfriends home. I did not like it, but for their sake, I accepted it. I had to accept it when our little town gained its first prostitute. I did not like it, but for the sake of peace with my neighbors and the town folk, I had to learn and accept it. It did not mean I socialized with the woman, but it also did not mean I treated her like a leper and tried to burn her at the stake. These past few months I had to learn and accept and tolerate the new world we were living in. This past week I had to tolerate visitors on my farm, because a boy was injured and because all of you told me about the two missing children. Now if I’m honest, I never expected you to find your lost children, but here they are. Proving that the time of miracles has not yet passed. I have to tolerate Shane Walsh and his rotten attitude. I have to tolerate Lori Grimes and her screeching. I have to tolerate Rick Grimes and his constant nagging in my ears to let you people stay. But there is one thing I absolutely refuse to accept and tolerate and that is the abuse of a child. So which one of you has been beating that child, leaving scars?”

Hershel watched the two people in front of him, the way the paled and their shocked and horrified expressions told him that they, at least, were innocent.

Glenn was the first to answer.

“Me and Carol did not know, I swear to you Hershel, we did not know. I love that boy and would never do anything to harm him in anyway. Neither would Carol. She knows all too well what it feels like to suffer under somebody. I can’t think that anybody in the group would want to harm a child in that way. We only met Daryl and his brother Merle afterwards. They were already at the quarry when the rest of us arrived. The two brothers kept mostly to themselves, they never socialized with us, Daryl never played with the other children. He followed Merle around like a puppy. In fact the Dixon brothers made sure we did not starve as they hunted and brought back meat to eat. Then there was an incident in Atlanta. Usually I went alone to scavenge for the group, I know Atlanta like the back of my hand. But our last trip was a group. It was me, Merle, T-Dog, Andrea, Jacqui and Morales. Morales and his family left for Birmingham to try and find their family. Jacqui stayed behind at the CDC. But in any case, Rick came riding into Atlanta on the back of a horse, he got trapped by a horde of walkers and I rescued him. Back on the roof, Merle flipped out, Andrea and Rick said he took drugs, but I don’t know, I’ve not seen him take anything. Rick handcuffed Merle to a pipe on the roof. I drew the walkers from the building in a car with the car alarm blaring while Rick rescued those still trapped in the building using the cube truck. It was only later that I learned Merle got left behind.”

Glenn realized that he was not really painting a rosy picture of their group, but it was now too late to try and change the story, to try and make themselves look better. Besides he would never lie to make either himself or anybody else seem like a saint, besmirching the name and reputation of the man who kept them fed and alive.

“Daryl was out hunting so he did not know what happened to his brother. During our last night at the quarry Rick and Shane decided that it would be too dangerous to go back to try and rescue Merle, as they believed Merle was a danger to the group and because it was too dangerous returning to that building. I suspect Merle is still up there, handcuffed to the roof like some animal. I always liked the Dixon brothers. Merle never gave me a laundry list of stuff he wanted from the city, only begging if I should happen to find any sweets to bring some back for Daryl.”

“What happened to their parents?”

“They never told, but I suspected that their parents abused their children, well at least Daryl. Merle is quite a few years older than Daryl. Either their parents did not survive the initial outbreak or Merle saw it as an opportunity and took Daryl and ran. No child deserve to be abused and especially not by those who are supposed to care for them. After Merle was left behind in Atlanta Shane decided he would take responsibility of Daryl. I was never comfortable with that decision When Daryl went after Sophia, I believe and I hope I am wrong, but I believe Walsh hoped that Daryl would never return. We were having somewhat of a verbal disagreement and Walsh told me that he does not want anything to do with Daryl. I promised that if we ever found Daryl I would take him in and raise him.”

Carol nodded, “Sophia told me some of their ordeal. Daryl protected her and saved her. He made sure she had something to eat, going without most of the time. If Daryl Dixon was such a bad little boy, he would never have gone after my Sophia, he never would have saved her, he never would have made sure she had something to eat, something to drink and somewhere safe to sleep. We… I was wrong about Daryl Dixon. He is a good boy. He is every bit as good as Shane and Rick, if not better and let me tell you, what he did for my daughter was more than her daddy ever did for her in his whole life.”

Hershel Greene was a man of science and a man of faith. Some believe that a man of faith could not be a man of science and a man of science could not be a man of faith, but Hershel managed just fine. His scientific mind never suffered persecution under his religious heart and his religious heart was never ridiculed by his scientific mind.

Both his mind and heart held a steadfast belief that a cure would be found. That the world would be righted once again and the dead would once again be as they always had been – dead. The man of science inside him was sure a cure would be found and that humanity would be saved. Maybe not every last one of them and most certainly not those who already succumbed to the virus, died, rose and were now shambling around, but at least those freshly infected. The man of faith insisted that even the dead would be cured and that his beloved wife, stepson and all his friends and neighbors locked away in the barn, could be cured.

Late at night, all alone in his bed. Hershel knew. He knew that if a cure was found it was too late for those already dead. He tried to make peace that he once again lost a wife, lost a stepson, lost all his friends and neighbors, but it was hard and until the time came when the army rolled up to his front door, with the cure in one hand and a valid explanation as to why those in the barn could not be saved, until that time, Hershel would remain hopeful.

He would allow the whole group to stay until Carl was healthy and then they should leave. He will however invite Glenn, Carol and Sophia, Daryl and T-Dog to stay. He would have loved to invite Amy and Dale as well, but they would never allow Andrea to leave and he would never allow Andrea to stay. But Hershel Green cannot trust Rick Grimes and Shane Walsh, he will not trust them and he will not allow him near his family and especially nowhere near Daryl Dixon.

Before Hershel could say anything else, Lori Grimes burst through the front door, proclaiming loudly that they wanted to do something for Hershel and his family. They were going to cook dinner that evening to thank the Greenes for their hospitality and taking care of her son.

Hershel gritted his teeth and went back to Daryl’s room, reciting bible verses in an attempt to calm himself. He just knew that Lori Grimes would be delegating every last chore in the kitchen to the other women in their group without even washing a teaspoon. Not only that, he knows the exact extent of their supplies. Their supplies would not feed one of them for a week, let alone a group of their size after preparing a meal for everybody on the farm. Which means that he would be supplying the food as well for Mrs Grimes’ thank you dinner.

As expected Carol and Amy prepared dinner. Andrea was once again patrolling with the rifle slung across her shoulders, as if she did not nearly kill a boy earlier in the day and Lori sitting on a chair telling the two women how the meal should be prepared. Carol never wanted to stab somebody with a vegetable peeler as much as she wanted to stab Lori Grimes.

Hershel counted the plates on the table, he counted again. Then he listed everybody on the farm. There were him, Beth, Maggie, Jimmy, Patricia, Carol, Sophia, Glenn, Daryl and T-Dog, Dale, Amy, Andrea, Rick, Lori, Carl and Walsh. That was seventeen, but only sixteen plates were placed on the table.

“Maggie, you missed a plate.”

Lori decided to answer, “No, I counted everybody. There’s a plate for each of us.”

If Hershel believed for one moment she was going to give that Dixon boy a plate of food she prepared, he was in for a surprise. If people like him wanted to stuff their faces, they had get their own food. 

Hershel noticed the look on her face and his mood darkened. He realized what she was doing, she had not planned on giving Daryl a plate of food. Conveniently forgetting that the produce came from his farm. Food that she had no hand in preparing other than ordering Carol and Amy around.

Pointing to each plate, Hershel started counting down the number of people on the farm.

“Me, Maggie, Beth, Patricia, Jimmy, Daryl, Glenn, Carol, Sophia, T-Dog, Dale, Amy, Andrea, Shane, Rick and Carl.” 

He purposefully left her name for last, knowing full well there was a plate short, “I guess you are not hungry?” 

Lori could not answer the old man. She had hoped he would miss the missing plate. That he would not count the plates, realizing that she had no intention of feeding that useless Dixon boy so much as a pea.

“Maggie, bring another plate. Seems like Mrs Grimes failed simple math at school.”

Rick and Shane heard the last part of the conversation, immediately ready to spring to Lori’s defense. How dare the old hick insult her in such a manner? Sensing the impending temper tantrum from both her husband and her lover, Lori defused the situation by giving a girlish giggle.

“It seems you are right Hershel. At least we found the mistake before all the food was already plated.”

Hershel just shook his head. The woman must really believe him to be some idiot country bumpkin.

“No harm done Lori. I think it is safe for Carl to start leaving the bed for short periods of time. It would do him the world of good to come down and sit on something firmer than a bed.”

“Are you sure? I mean, he was shot and he’s just out of the woods. I don’t want him to hurt himself.”

Hershel rolled his eyes. One would think he told the woman that her son was to run the Boston Marathon in the morning. The kid was fine, he was healing nicely and he had to start exercising before his muscles started to atrophy in bed.

“Lori, he is fine, he is healing nicely. The stitches won’t rip if he sits on a chair enjoying a meal downstairs.”

“What about the Dixon boy?”

“What about Daryl? He’s injured and may I remind you shot earlier today. There is absolutely no reason for the boy to over exert himself and exacerbate his injuries. At the moment he is resting and he will not be disturbed.”

Daryl woke up on a soft surface, for a moment he forgot where he was, but then he remembered. He and Sophia left the woods and as they emerged they saw a group of men running towards them. It looked like Glenn, T-Dog, Mr Grimes and Walsh, but he was so tired, hungry and thirsty he could hardly see straight. Then the shot and his head hurt. It felt like his Pa was there and punched him in the face.

Daryl remembered bits and pieces of the old man cleaning his wounds, wrapping the bandages on his head and side. He remembers the hiss as the old man saw his scars on his back, before gently covering him up and telling him to rest.

Daryl could hear voices drifting into his room, the smell of food and he wanted to get up and ask for a little bit to eat. But then he remembered Walsh was there, Walsh and his rules. Walsh telling him that he would only get something to eat if he earned it. As hungry as he was, he was not about to enter the room asking for as much as a slice of bread. The kind old man might give him a plate of food, but then the punishment from Walsh would be brutal. With a soft sigh, Daryl squashed the hunger and ignored his complaining stomach. He would just sleep a bit before trying to hunt, maybe he would be able to catch something, even if it was only a lizard.

Daryl hear two sets of footsteps coming closer to the room he was in. At least none of them was Walsh, the man sounded like an angry elephant, stomping everywhere. The door creaked open and for a moment Daryl wanted to pretend he was still asleep. But then he remembered he was lying with his back to the door, shirtless and the covers drawn only waist high. Whomever was entering the room was going to see the scars. Daryl hastily tried to drag the covers over his shoulders, hiding the thick scars on his back, hiding his shame.

Hershel and Carol saw the hasty movement from the injured boy on the bed. Both realizing Daryl did not want anybody to know about the scars. Carol knew how he felt, she hid the signs of Ed’s abuse the same way. For years she believed it was her fault that Ed abused her. She was the cause of Ed’s aggression. She deserved every punch, every broken rib, and every black eye. She lived in shame and fear, ashamed of her cowardice and frightened because she believed nobody would believe her, everybody would believe she deserved the treatment she received at the hands of that bastard.

She gently covered the child’s back. When he was healed, she would talk to him. Remind him that he had nothing to be ashamed of, that it was not his shame, but rather the shame of the person who put them there. Glenn was adamant of raising Daryl and she knew Maggie and her family would help Glenn. But she would help too. He saved her daughter and brought her back safely. What this child deserves is for adults to start doing right by him.

“Daryl, honey, we brought you a plate of food. Eat up and then rest. Glenn will be by in a bit to check on you. I want to thank you for what you did for my Sophia. You protected her and saved her.”

Daryl turned, scrunching his face. “Is nothing Ma’am. Anybody would have done the same.”

“Maybe, but I know what you did. You did more for my little girl than her own daddy did for her in her whole life. You ran into those woods with only a machete, you found my daughter and protected her and brought her back to me, without so much as a scratch on her. She told me everything you did for her, making sure she was safe, making sure she had food to eat, even if it meant you had none. You are a wonderful little boy Daryl Dixon and someday you’ll make a fine man and husband. You are just as good as Rick Grimes and Shane Walsh, no, you are better than them. And don’t let anybody tell you different.”

She leaned over, placing a gently kiss on his forehead, her heart breaking when she saw the flinch. She needed to comfort Sophia, her daughter was worried about Daryl, afraid that he was going to die after everything he did for her.

Hershel checked the wounds, making sure Daryl’s bandages were still secure. His touches were soft and gentle, handling the boy the same way he would have treated a frightened animal. Not that he believed the child to be an animal, but he was afraid and one wrong move and the poor overwrought child would bolt from the room in fright.

He was just getting ready to help Daryl eat his dinner, when the door opened again. Glenn and Maggie entered the room. For the first time Hershel saw relief and happiness on the face of the child. Seems like he trusts and likes Glenn. 

“Hi Daryl, mind if me and Maggie sit with you? I promise you I won’t allow her to feed you like a baby. But, if you promise to eat all your food and drink the pills Hershel’s going to give you, I’ve got a surprise for you.”

Glenn dangled the bag of chocolates and candies in front of Daryl. His heart warming when he saw the excited light in the boy’s eyes. The next half an hour Glenn told Daryl everything that happened while he and Sophia had been missing, he did not miss the misty look in Daryl’s eyes and the shy smile when he told him that he would be taking care of him from now on and that Daryl should consider himself adopted by Glenn.

TWD TWD TWD


	7. Chapter 7

Rick and Shane went from tent to tent, gathering every weapon they could lay their hands on. Walsh stared longingly at the farm house, 

“What about the weapons in the house?”

Rick shook his head, “Nah, Hershel claims they don’t have any guns, except Otis’ old hunting rifle. And we already got that one.”

Shane grinned, he forgot about that. After Otis so bravely sacrificed himself to save Carl’s live, he accidently on purpose forgot to hand the rifle back to the old man.

“What about that Dixon boy and his crossbow?”

Rick scratched his head. He forgot about the crossbow. “Let it be for the moment. He’s got a limited supply of arrows and as far as we know it is the only weapon in the house. Hershel’s not the kind of man who would claim to have only the hunting rifle and lying about it.”

The two men entered Dale’s RV, confiscating everything that may be used as a weapon. The way Hershel made them live was rubbing Rick Grimes the wrong way. He did not care about the others in the group, but his wife and son deserved to live in a house, sleep in a soft bed. He deserved it, Shane deserved it. After everything they have done and still Hershel Greene makes them live like squatters. And if Hershel was not willing to get with the program and accept him as their leader, he will take over the farm and let him and his family sleep outside in tents.

As the two men exited the RV, they bumped into T-Dog and Dale. Dale eyed the bag of weapons in Shane’s arms, not even realizing the two men even removed the machetes and knives.

“Hey man, what’s with the guns?”

Rick gave T-Dog his most disarming smile, the one he used back when he used to be a Deputy Sheriff. It always worked to calm a situation down.

“There’s no problem with the guns T-Dog. It is just that the amount of guns lying around, makes Lori a bit uncomfortable. Two children were shot already by people who were not qualified to handle them. Carl nearly died from his gunshot, Shane nearly died when he went to retrieve the necessary medicine and medical equipment and Otis died on the same run. Dixon was shot and if not for the fact that Andrea is a lousy shot, she would have killed the boy. I made a decision and I’m sticking with it. The only ones who will carry from this moment on will be myself and Shane, since we are the only ones qualified.”

T-Dog nodded. He could understand the reasoning behind their actions, it did bother him though that Rick refused to call Daryl by his name. Somehow he did not believe Rick would be so callous if somebody called his son ‘Grimes’ instead of Carl.

“What about training? As you rightly pointed out, at the moment only you two know your way around weapons. Would it not be better if the two of you trained everybody? Then every one of us have a fighting chance. Ready to defend ourselves and each other?”

Shane gave a snort, “We don’t have the ammo or the time holding your hands, training you. Nah… best keep it like it is now. Maybe down the road, we could start weapons training, but right now…”

Dale dragged T-Dog away. He had hoped his observations had been wrong, but even in the old world, one did not get to the ripe old age of seventy without learning to trust your instincts. Besides, those two men were not the only ones proficient in fire arms. He still remembered his training when he was a young man, fighting in Vietnam. Just because he was not prone to brag about those days, did not mean he forgot how to shoot. And if he was not mistaken, Hershel might have experienced a tour or two in Vietnam himself. Old soldiers just had that air around them. Best let Rick and Shane believe they were nothing more than helpless old men, content in counting their remaining teeth and just glad they were not pissing their pants yet.

Let Rick and Shane make their little plans, they could too. Dale remembered the creek, winter was coming and soon the creek would dry up. Without the mud trapping the walkers, they would be able to gain access to the farm in greater numbers. Soon enough the farm would no longer be the safe haven it was now. Then there was also the head of cattle. Walkers would be drawn to the cattle and their noise and smell. Dinner would be served and they would be stuck in an old wooden farmhouse. And if a horde as large as the one who passed them by on the highway was to descend on the farm, the house would become their tomb.

Dale led T-Dog around the back, entering the house without alerting Rick and Shane as to their destination. He no longer trusted those two. Hershel and his family just finished breakfast. Beth and Daryl were busy clearing the table, squabbling whose turn it was to wash and whose turn it was to dry. Neither man could deny the fond look on Hershel’s face as he watched his daughter and adopted grandson bickering. It almost seemed normal, as if the world did not end, as if the dead did not walk around, pretending to be alive.

“Hershel, we may have a slight problem…”

The old vet sighed. “What did those two do now?”

“They confiscated every fire arm in the camp. We found them as they exited my RV, no doubt cleaning the place out. Now, Rick’s explanation seemed plausible enough and even justified. I just don’t trust it. According to Rick, they collected the guns in a way to prevent any further accidental shootings. Now, if this was the real reason, I would have applauded the man.”

“But it’s not the real reason is it?”

T-Dog shook his head, “Nope, I asked Rick why he and Shane won’t teach us then. It got shot down, saying they don’t have the time or the ammo to properly teach us. Now I might have believed the ammo excuse, but time? Man, we’ve got nothing but time. How many hours a day are wasted with groups of people doing absolutely nothing? I know Dale’s been in the army, maybe a long time ago, but I reckon the training never goes away. I suspect you’ve been as well…”

Hershel gave a biting laugh. T-Dog was more observant than he gave him credit. “Son, those days were a life time ago, but you’re right. The training never goes away, it may be a bit rusty, but it never goes away. I hate to say this, this farm, it’s been my home since the day I was born. I got married to Josephine here. Maggie was born here. I buried Josephine here. I married my second wife, Anette here. Beth was born here. Anette died here and is buried in the old family plot right between Josephine and my stepson Shawn. Good times and bad times. I always hoped that I would be buried here, in the space between the two women whom I loved. But I have to protect my children. Maggie just found her Glenn and even gave me an instant grandson. I may be an old fart, but I’m not a fool. This farm will not stay safe. I showed you the creek, come winter the water will be gone and the mud hard and dry…”

For a moment nobody spoke. They could hear Beth and Daryl laughing and joking in the kitchen, dishes clinking. 

Hershel cleared his throat. “I was thinking, we need to leave. The sooner the better. Let Grimes and his family keep the farm. They will soon learn it is not as safe as they hope. They don’t want to learn about the dangers. We’ve got a few choices. We can make our new home at the prison. It’s got thick walls and enclosed by a sturdy fence. But we don’t know how many prisoners were trapped inside. I would hate to waste valuable resources going there, only to find it is overrun. My choice is a compound about three hours ride from here. A group of hippies bought the farm and made a damn near fortress of the place. Said they did not trust The Man.”

“Is the place still safe?”

“Yup, when all of this started, they were the first to lock the place up and try and help those afflicted. Last I heard they rushed off to Atlanta to help Earth Mother heal the children or some sort of rot.”

Dale nodded, “Might be they were stuck in Atlanta when the Army napalmed the place. How secure is that farm?”

Hershel grinned, “They surrounded their little plot of land with shipping containers. Stacked them three high around the place, with a solid gate. They used to call me to tend to their animals and trusted me enough to give me a set of keys.”

TWD TWD TWD

Over the next few weeks, Hershel and his family quietly and secretly started to pack everything of value. The peach trees were stripped bare, the fruit canned and spirited away. T-Dog, Glenn and Daryl even managed to butcher two cows, drying the beef in the old farmhouse where Daryl and Sophia hid. Everything of value made its way to that old farmhouse. 

Day by day tension grew on the farm. They were split into two distinct groups. The Grimes family, Shane Walsh and Andrea in one camp and the rest in the other camp. Amy fell in with the Grimes group, but only because of her sister. Rick and Shane patrolled the farm, their weapons resting in the crooks of their arms. Intent clear on their faces, they were the law.

The two men believed Hershel and Dale were nothing but useless, harmless old men. They never realized that Hershel and his extended family were planning to flee the farm. Let Rick and his group inherit the bones of the old Greene farm.

Carl tucked the pistol he stole beneath his shirt. He checked where his parents and Shane were. His dad and Shane were getting ready to make a run to the highway, he heard his Dad tell Shane they should check a few of the cars. His mum was still sleeping. Andrea and Amy were in their tent, giggling about something.

Everybody else were doing chores around the farm. Hershel wanted him to perform chores as well, just like Dixon and Sophia, but his mom said he was not the old fart’s servant, so he did not have to work on the farm. If Carol did not mind her daughter being made into a servant, then it was her problem. 

Carl was not sure where the Dixon boy was and he did not care either. He never had to play with white trash like Daryl Dixon before and he was not about to start now. In any case, he was no longer a child, he wanted to carry his gun openly and patrol the farm like his daddy did.

Carl slipped away. He wanted to go to the creek. It was where the old man said most of the walkers got stuck. They would try to cross and the mud would suck them in. Somebody would check the creek out, destroying the walkers stuck in the mud, keeping the farm safe. Carl really hoped a walker or two would be stuck in the mud. He could use them as target practice.

On his way to the creek Carl imagined how he would shoot the walker, right between the eyes. Showing his parents and Shane how tough he is. By this time tomorrow, he might also be walking around the farm with the gun strapped to his hip, patrolling just like his daddy and Shane.

And if that Dixon boy gives him any shit, he would take him out in a heartbeat. He would put that little bastard right in his place. Back home, he was the king of the playground. If Carl did not like somebody, that kid had a hard time at school and Carl made sure that the poor kids in the school exactly knew their place. And Daryl Dixon was the bottom of the barrel. He was poor, he was nothing but a dirty little redneck and he was an orphan. Not even his own parents liked him enough to stay alive.

If Daryl Dixon ever went to his school, he would have been the child sitting alone in a corner of the playground. Not even the other poor kids would have played with him. If he so much as dared to look in their way, Carl and his friends would have beaten seven shades of shit out of the boy. 

Carl Grimes had been used to live a certain way. Back home he was the king of the playground. The other children played the games he wanted them to play. He decided who was allowed friends and who not. And if Carl Grimes disliked somebody, everybody else disliked them as well. Everybody always said his father was going to be the youngest and most popular sheriff in King County and if it had not been for all of this happening, his father would already be the most powerful man in their town, he was certainly the richest.

Carl neared the creek and a big grin adorned his face. There stuck in the mud was a walker. It was one of the ugliest he’s ever seen up close. The walker smelled fresh meat, lifted his head and started groaning. Part of its face had been ripped off, giving it a Joker grin. Decay and the warm Georgia sun took revenge on the walking corpse, and the remaining skin on his face kind of slipped. Just before everything went bad, Carl watched some old movie with his dad. He just could not remember the title of the movie, but he remembered two things about the movie. The hero carried a whip and fought Nazi’s. At the end of the movie Carl laughed in glee when the Nazi’s faces melted off. The thing stuck in the mud’s face looked a bit like those Nazi’s faces looked. As if it also looked at something it was not supposed to.

Carl stood watching the walker for a few minutes, before he finally withdrew the gun and pointing it at the walker’s head. He really wanted to blow its head off, but still Carl could not do it. What if he missed and his father or Shane heard the gunshot? Worse, what if he misses and Daryl Dixon heard?

Carl just knew Daryl would be able to shoot the walker in the head, without even trying. And then Dixon would tell Glenn that Carl was not even able to shoot a stuck walker and Glenn would tell everybody in the camp. Carl suddenly kept hearing the taunts Daryl would fling his way. The way Glenn, T-Dog and the Greene’s would laugh at him. His parents and Shane would be so ashamed of him, because he was not even able to shoot a walker.

It was so unfair that something like Daryl Dixon was able to shoot and that he was allowed to carry his crossbow around. Hershel made them all give their weapons up, saying the farm was a gun free zone, but Glenn was not stupid. He know the old man only wanted his dad and Shane unarmed. His mom said it was because Hershel was jealous of his dad and Shane, that is why he did not want anybody to carry a gun.

The walker gave a load groan and managed to free himself from the mud. The smell of fresh meat was driving it insane. It wanted to eat, it needed to eat. The need to feed became overpowering and with a final squelching, ripping sound it tore free from the mud.

Carl saw the way the thing freed himself from the mud and suddenly he realized he was just a boy, he did not want to die. If that thing caught him, there would be no way to save his life. No matter how many times either Shane or his father went to get medicine. Dr Jenner at the CDC did tell them that there was no cure. Carl’s recent brush with death made him very aware of his own mortality and with a strangled cry he turned around and ran away.

All the way back to their camp Carl wondered how he was going to tell his dad and Shane about the walker. If his parents knew he left the safety of the farm, they would strip the skin off his butt. He would not be able to sit properly for a year. Besides he can just imagine the smirk on Dixon’s face if he ever realized Carl had been unable to shoot the walker.

As Carl ran towards their tent, he made his mind up. He was going to stay quiet. He will not tell anybody about the walker, besides either his father or Shane will find the thing and take care of it. Hopefully only after it tore a chunk from Dixon’s face.

TWD TWD TWD

Carl kept quiet, he slipped into the tent, hid the gun where he found it and went to sleep. If only he mentioned the walker, then Hershel and his group would have left the farm and they would have been able to move into the farmhouse, for however long that may have been.

If only he opened his mouth, then they would not have lost two of their own little group. Carl’s dreams of being better than Daryl Dixon nearly cost them everything. But Carl Grimes was a very selfish and spoiled young boy. He grew up knowing full well he was better than everybody else in school.

Their family was the richest family in town, even though his father was a policeman. Unlike so many of his class mates, his mother did not need to work. His teachers fawned over him, always praising him, telling him he would be able to do anything his heart desired. If only they knew about the dead rising and walking around again, then they would have found one thing Carl Grimes could not achieve on his very first try. But then again if any of his teachers were to see the real Carl Grimes, they would not have liked the child very much.

At dinner the trouble started, Amy and Andrea got into a shouting match. Amy liked Beth and was friends with the girl. Beth was the only girl closest to her in age and they used to spend all their time together. They shared their hopes and dreams for the future. Wishing the world was still as it used to be. They missed reading about the lives, scandals and gossip about the rich and famous. Arguing whether it would be better to be a mermaid or a fairy.

“You know what Andrea? Fuck you! I am tired of you telling me who I can be friendly with! You are not my mother. You remember Mum? You remember Dad? Well they are dead! They died and you have not seen them in ten years. Too busy being Ms Big Shot Civil Rights Attorney. Too busy doing God knows what down in Miami!”

With that Amy jumped up and rushed off into the darkness. She needed time alone. Time away from Andrea, Lori, Rick and Shane. She needed time to think. Things she could not and would not be able to achieve surrounded by the very people who irritated her.

Amy did not care much for Andrea’s friends. Lori was not a very nice person and everybody knew about her and Shane, they used to spend all their time together, eye-fucking each other. Everybody knew what it meant when Lori said she was going to gather mushrooms. Hell, when they first met they thought Shane and Lori were married and Carl was their son. It was only after Carl talked about how his daddy died, that they realized their mistake.

Shane scared Amy. The way his eyes looked as if he could rip your head from your body if you so much as look at him wrong. She never liked Shane, the man was dangerous and unstable. She liked Merle Dixon, something she never dared tell anybody back at the quarry. Merle may have been covered in tattoos, smoking and swearing all the time, but he never scared her. Make no mistake, Merle would gleefully murder someone who even would have thought of looking wrong at his little brother, but he was harmless.

Merle was the only one who wanted to do something about Ed. Everybody knew about Ed Peletier, but nobody wanted to do anything about it. Glenn was too afraid of the bastard. Dale too old to take him on. T-Dog was scared if he punched the bastard, he would get sent away, and why not? Besides Jaqcui he was the only black person in the group. Morales was too wrapped up in his wife and children and only cared about his own family, she heard him tell his wife there was no way he was going to risk himself for some uppity white bitch. Jim too caught up in his grief for his lost family, slowly losing his mind in the process.

Besides Merle, Shane was the only one in their old group who could have taken care of Ed and his abusive behavior. But Shane kept quiet, he allowed Ed Peletier to abuse Carol. It worried Amy greatly that Shane used to be a cop and he stood idly by as Ed beat his wife down. But the moment Merle tried to protect Carol, he became the bad guy and Shane quickly intervened.

Amy was so lost in her own thoughts, she neither heard nor saw the danger until it was too late. 

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The walker from the creek made his way from the woods and into one of the fields surrounding the farm house. When he was still alive his name was Walter Munz, a timid clerk at a bank in Atlanta. He spent his days at the bank, counting money, handing wads of cash over to rude customers, wishing he could tell the bank manager were he could shove his job. Nights were spent locked into his small apartment, too afraid to go out, too afraid to meet new people. When the world started falling apart, Walter still went to work. Soon enough he was the only employee, except the manager, Michelle Clinton at work. Even with people dying around them, the dead coming back to life and attacking the living, heavy police and later military presence in the city, riots and martial law being declared Walter was still being verbally abused by Michelle. His last day alive was spent scrambling to work, now even more than ever, afraid of the people around him. Michelle unlocked the building, still as much a bitch as ever, snarling at him when he greeted her. She seemed ill, sweating and mumbling to herself. As soon as she opened, she rushed off towards her office, slamming the door behind her. Walter was very concerned about the woman, it was clear she was coming down with something and wanted to take her to a doctor, but his fear for her biting remarks stayed his hand.

Three hours later, Walter knocked timidly on her office door. He finally managed to scrape every last bit of courage he possessed together and decided to try and convince the woman to go to a doctor or at least buy medicine. When Michelle did not answer, Walter opened the door and entered her office.

The knot of fear in his stomach turned into an ice cold boulder when he saw the woman lying on the ground. Rushing over to the prone body on the floor, Walter started sniffing. He might not have liked the woman very much, but she was a big part of his daily boring life. Crying over the dead body, Walter did not notice the slight hand movements, his yelling and cursing at the corpse, telling the dead body of Michelle Clinton how much he hated her and that he was quitting his job, masked the small groans coming from the mouth of Michelle Clinton. Walter did however feel her teeth sinking into his arm, trying to rip a chunk of flesh from his bones.

The thing that used to be Walter Munz had been part of the horde on the highway. Carol would have been glad to realize the walker that used to be a very timid Walter, the male version of herself really, was the walker who chomped down on Ed Peletier’s cock, ripping it – balls and all – and swallowing Ed Peletier’s pride and joy down in one gulp. After dining on Ed Peletier’s crown jewels Walter shambled off into the woods, while every other walker tried to dine on Ed.

He stumbled around aimlessly in the woods until he got stuck in the mud at the creek. In time he forgot why he wanted to cross the creek, he forgot all about the small doe on the other side, prompting him to cross the water. No other prey crossed his path and the walker that used to be Walter grew calm. Without a reason of his existence the frenzy in him died down. Walter would have stayed stuck until Hershel found him and killed him, but the appearance of Carl changed everything.

The smell of fresh meat roused Walter. He became agitated, now being driven by his need to feed. Every second smelling fresh food, riled Walter up. He started struggling again. He wanted to be free, he wanted to eat. At last he managed to rip himself from the mud and reached towards his meal. Once again his food eluded him, but Walter was now free and slowly made his way towards the farmhouse.

Walter could hear something noises and see lights, every now and again the wind would carry a faint smell towards him. His remaining three senses drove him towards the small camp…

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Andrea was still pissed at Amy and did not even try and stop the girl from running away. Was Amy so naïve that she could not see and understand how much she loved her and what she was willing to give to ensure her sister’s safety? She felt guilty because she never visited her parents, but Andrea worked hard to become the best in her field. Being a lawyer was hard work and being a civil rights lawyer was rewarding but frustrating at the same time. Andrea decided to let Amy calm down a bit and then she would explain to her sister. She would explain that she does not hate the Greene family, they have been nothing but good to them. It was just that she saw the changes in the camp. She saw how their group was broken and she chose the strongest of the group.

Rick and Shane were fighters. They would be able to defend their group and they would stay alive. The others were weak. They did not know how to fight. They would never be able to protect Amy and ensure her survival. Dale and Hershel were old and Andrea was not even sure if either of the men ever held a gun in their hands. Jimmy was a snot nosed little kid, who sniffed after Beth, more worried about having sex with Beth than learning how to protect himself and others. Beth was just as sweet and naïve as Amy and needed protection herself. Glenn was smart and elusive, but he lacked the strength to protect them. Maggie was tough as nails, but her main priority would be her own family. T-Dog was strong, but too unsure of himself. The Dixon boy was a strong and resourceful little motherfucker, but she would rather drink battery acid than rely on a redneck hick like Daryl Dixon.

Just as Andrea walked over to Shane and Rick and ask them to help her search for Amy, she hear the screams. Unfortunately they became too aware to those type of screams. Screams of pain and terror. Screams that announced that the screamer was being ripped apart by those things. Every time Andrea heard those death screams, she would check if Amy was still there, if Amy was still unharmed, even if the screamer was male. The only person Andrea ever cared about had been Amy. She would have crawled to hell and back on a bed of broken glass and rusty nails if it meant Amy was safe. But this time, she just knew it was Amy. How could it not be? Everybody but Amy was already in bed. Part of Andrea hoped it was somebody else. She hoped it was Beth or Maggie or Patricia or Carol or Sophia. She prayed that it was the Dixon boy. But deep down Andrea knew. She knew she was hearing the terrified screams of her own sister, she was hearing the one person she truly loved die – and die horribly.

Andrea heard Rick barking “Get Hershel!” still running in the direction of the screams. From the corner of her eye she could see Shane, his pistol ready. It was harder than she could imagine, trying to find somebody screaming in the dark. She was a city girl, she did not realize how deceiving sound could be in the dark. The three of them were running around like headless chicken, trying to pinpoint the direction of the screams, 

Rick noticed bobbing lights “Over there!”. The three of them changed direction, only to find Glenn and T-Dog following a small Daryl Dixon. Go figure, the only one who seemed to be able to find his way in the dark and pinpoint the direction of the screams. Andrea did not want the little bastard to be the one to rescue her sister. 

 

Daryl was running in front. It took him a moment, listening to the screams and he rushed off, knowing Glenn and T-Dog will follow. Dale and Hershel, being older would be able to follow the lights. He knew Carl disobeyed his mother and was running after them. Daryl was wary of Carl Grimes. He knew boys like them, when he still lived with his parents, before Merle. They were the kind of boys all adults liked, but children feared. Especially children like Daryl. They were the polite bullies, the ones causing the most damage, but always walked away, smelling like roses. Nobody believed that a kid looking like Carl could be the bully and that a kid looking like Daryl could be the victim. 

Carl thought nobody saw him running from the woods. He thought nobody saw the fear and the guilt on his face. But Daryl saw him and Daryl wondered. He knew Carl had been snooping around the farm. He knew Carl took to stealing stuff from people’s bags. He even knew about the gun Carl stole and talk the boy into putting the pistol back where he found it. Carl did not really realize how dangerous guns could be. He did not respect guns and the power behind them. Carl neither feared nor respected fire arms, even after he had been shot. So Daryl let it be, vowing to stay out of Carl Grimes’ sight.

Daryl wondered why Carl seemed so afraid and guilty. And what he had done in the woods. He knew Carl did not shoot at anything, since they would have heard the pistol shot. The world was so silent now. Before the world was filled with noise, even deep in the woods there had been noise, proof of mankind. Cars, planes, trains, music playing, singing and laughing. Even Daryl missed the background noise and he loved the silence. He loved the sound nature made and preferred it over the sound of mankind, but even he missed the noise humanity used to make.

Daryl was the first to reach Amy, she was still screaming trying to defend herself against her attacker. The walker just ignored the screaming and the feeble slaps around his head. The thing was too busy ripping the flesh from Amy’s stomach. Without a second thought Daryl dove at the walker, his hunting knife already in his right hand, clutched tightly. The impact drove the distracted walker away from Amy. Over and over the walker and the boy rolled down the small hill. The walker trying to take a bite from the boy and Daryl trying his best to shove his knife into the dead thing’s skull. The came to a shuddering standstill when the walker crashed into a boulder, snapping it back like a twig. Daryl could not believe his luck, just one more roll and his back would have connected, killing him. He quickly stabbed the thing in the brain, killing Walter Munz for a second time.

Without even stopping to check his own injuries and brushing the dirt from his clothes Daryl ran back up the hill. Andrea was holding Amy, Rick was trying to shove Amy’s guts back into her body, still calling out to Hershel. Andrea was apologizing to Amy, promising her she could be friends with whomever she pleases, just as long as she stayed alive and got better. Carl stood to the side, it was clear guilt was eating him alive.

Daryl suddenly realized why Carl looked so guilty. When he came running from the woods this morning he came running from the direction of the creek. The creek where walkers got stuck in the mud. Carl wanted to shoot the walker, but had been unable to. Maybe the walker got free from the mud before Carl was able to shoot it. He would never know. But he knows that Carl knew about the walker stuck in the mud and he knew the walker got free and instead of running and telling Rick or Walsh about the walker, he kept quiet. Carl’s silence got Amy killed. Nobody would blame Carl because he got scared and was unable to shoot the walker, but the fact that he remained silent? His silence got Amy ripped apart. His silence ensured that Andrea had to watch as somebody either blew Amy’s brains out or stab her in the head. His silence endangered the whole camp.

Hershel kneeled in the grass, ignoring Andrea’s pleas. Without even checking he knew. There was nothing he could do. If the walker took a bite on her arm or leg, he could have tried and chop the limb off, hoping the infection would not spread, praying she would not turn. But besides the first bites to her arm, the thing ripped her stomach open. No amount of antibiotics, painkillers and stitches would save the girls life.

If there was one thing Hershel hated from his life as a vet, it was to be the bearer of bad news. He hated to tell people the animal was not going to make it, that the merciful thing to do was to euthanize the poor suffering animal. It was not as if Amy was an animal, but he could do the math. The girl was not going to make it and she was going to suffer until she died and afterwards… afterwards she would become one of those things. At the start of this mess his stepson Shawn died first. He went and helped friends escape the city and was bit. It was a small bite on the arm. Back then nobody knew how the virus spread. Nobody knew a scratch or a bite meant a death sentence. That is why hospitals were the first to fall, doctors, nurses and paramedics fought until the very end to save their patients’ lives. 

So when Shaun came home with the bite on his arm, he treated him. The small clinic in town was already filled to the brim with suffering patients. Hershel was not going to put additional and unnecessary strain on their horrible working conditions by taking Shaun there. So he cleaned the bite, Anette laughed at the way Hershel cleaned the wound. She believed his extensive cleaning of the bite to be overkill. It was just a bite after all.

But the bite developed and infection, no matter how much Hershel cleaned the wound, no matter the amount of antibiotics Hershel pumped into Shaun. The infection spread and Shaun’s fever rose until Hershel feared his stepson was going to die. Shaun suffered a three agonizing days. Hershel could not understand why and how the infection spread so fast. He never heard of an infection as fast spreading, not even rabies spread as fast as this new virus. At first everybody thought it was nothing more than a new strain of rabies. 

Shawn died on the third day, screaming in agony, delirious with fever, his temperature rising as high as 120ᐤF. Anette stayed with Shaun until the end. Hershel called the police, the officer listened to Hershel and told him they should go ahead and bury their son. The doctor and his two nurses at the clinic was dead. He would make a note of the death of Shaun and when everything calmed down, Hershel would be issued with Shaun’s death certificate.

Anette bathed Shaun, washed his hair and the sweat from his body. Crying, thinking that she was the first person to bath Shaun and the last. She cried for her only son’s lost future. The marriage he would never have, the children never born. When she felt movement she cried in joy, thinking God heard her pleas and raised her son from the dead, just as he did Lazarus. When Hershel rushed into the room at Anette’s excited cries, he saw Shaun rip a chunk from Anette’s exposed throat.

Hershel always carried his pistol. Everybody who knew Hershel, knew he carried. Hershel made sure to always carry his pistol, after that rabies scare back in 1985. Hershel went to visit the O’Malleys, three farms over. Their cow had been sick and he went to visit his patient to see how she was doing. Just as he got out of his car, he heard the growling. The next moment this huge dog came rushing at him, foam and spit flying from its snapping jaws. Pat O’Malley heard the ruckus and shot the animal dead. Hershel was shaken, it was the first time he came that close to being bit by a rabid animal. From that day, fear of a rabid animal fresh in his mind, he took to carrying his pistol.

Hershel’s training as a soldier came back and although his mind was filled with fear, rage, disbelief and utter sadness, his face was calm when he drew his pistol and shot Shaun in the head. Anette was dying fast, bleeding out on the pristine white bedsheets. His daughters tried to come into the room, but Hershel chased them away. There was no reason to see their brother with his brains all over the sheets and wall. No reason to see their mama bleeding out right next to her oldest child.

Within seconds Anette was dead. Hershel stayed in the room. Waiting, watching. Hoping that Anette would not come back like Shaun did. Praying that he would not have to shoot his wife if she did. Ten minutes after Anette bled out, she started moving. Small movements at first. Movements Hershel tried to deny. Hershel wanted to believe she did not die, she did not bleed out right next to Shaun. But his time as a soldier exposed him to many dead bodies, some of those dead bodies even died by his hand. Hershel Greene was a man very familiar with death and dead bodies. Anette Greene was very dead up until ten seconds ago when the fingers on her left hand twitched.

Still he watched and he waited. He had to make sure. He had to be certain that when you get bit and die you come back and if you come back, you become a monster. Anette opened her eyes and rose from the bed. Her once beautiful blue eyes were milky, she groaned when she noticed Hershel, mouth opening and closing. When the thing, because she was no longer Anette Greene tried to bite Hershel, he took care of it.

He knew Anette and Shaun had already been dead. He did not kill his wife and stepson. The only thing he did was an act of kindness and mercy. Whatever he shot in the head was no longer Shaun and Anette.

As Hershel kneeled next to a dying Amy, he gently brushed over her face. Looking at her, looking in her frantic eyes, he could not help but see the fear and the understanding. She knew just as he did. She was not going to be saved. The only thing they could do now was ease her suffering.

“I’m sorry…”

Andrea’s pained screams filled the night air. She could not lose Amy. She could not lose her little sister. Amy still believed in mermaids, unicorns and fairies. She still believed in the goodness of humanity. She still believed the world’s problems could be fixed with a smile and a hug.

Rick rose, cocking his Colt Python. He must do what must be done. Amy Harrison was going to die and when she comes back she was going to be a danger to his wife and son. Andrea heard the distinct cocking sound, understanding what was about to happen. But she did not want Rick Grimes of all people to shoot her sister. Amy deserved to be released from the pain and humiliation by somebody who loved her, not by Rick Grimes.

“No!”

“Andrea, you know we must. Your sister… she is going to die anyway. She is going to suffer until she dies. Do you want Amy to suffer? You know what is going to happen afterwards…”

Andrea did not care for the tone in Rick’s voice. She was not stupid, she knew Amy was going to die and die horribly at that. She took the Python from Rick’s hand.

“I’ll do it. I’ll take care of my sister, just as I was supposed to. I failed Amy while she was growing up. I never protected her as I should have, but I will do now.”

Andrea kissed Amy on the forehead. “Shh honey. Everything is going to be fine. In a few seconds you’ll be back home with Mom and Dad. Tell them I love them. Tell them I’m sorry for being such a shitty daughter. I love you Amy…”

Carl flinched when Andrea pulled the trigger. He recognized the walker. It was the one from the creek. The one he failed to shoot. The one he failed to tell his father about. He promised himself to keep his mouth shut. Nobody must ever know it was his fault Amy Harrison died.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait. Hope ypu enjoy.

Andrea was ignorant and a bigot (although she would complain bitterly at that title), but she was not stupid. She saw the guilty look plastered on Carl Grimes’ face. She knew he had something to do with the death of her sister, proving her point that men always hurt women. Make no mistake, she loves men and she thrives on the compliments they give her, but she will never trust a man. She might have had sex with Shane a few times, but then she understood Shane better than even he knew she did. She understood that he loved only one woman and that was Lori Grimes. She knew they had an affair long before the world went to shit. She saw the lingering madness beneath the surface, he was a ticking bomb and sooner, rather than later, the man was going to explode. She does not want to be caught in the crossfire when that happens.

Rick Grimes was just as bad. He had been willing to leave a man to die like a trapped animal, just because they told tall tales about the man. It did not bother Andrea in the least that she had been the one to slip the drugs to Merle, that she was the direct cause of Merle’s abandonment. It also did not bother her that she, along with Shane and Lori, told one lie after the other regarding the Dixon brothers. It did matter to her that Rick Grimes had been unable to see through their subterfuge. The man used to be a cop, he was supposed to realize when somebody lied to him, even if it was his wife and supposed best friend.

Andrea really hated it when her guilty conscience reminded her about all her misdeeds. It made gentle barbs about the candy she and her friends shoplifted from the old Mom & Pop store when she was a kid. It reminded her about every instance of disobedience towards her parents. The way she scraped her small hometown from her boot heels, as if she stepped in shit. How she never once went back to visit her parents, how she always made one excuse after the other. How she nearly refused to go on this road trip with Amy, a trip that gave her sweet little sister a few extra months to live. Worst of all had been the sharp jabs reminding her that she caused Merle Dixon’s death. That she lied about the Dixons, just because they were poor, spoke funny and were obviously not enlightened liberal Democrats. 

In the deepest darkest recess of Andrea Harrison’s mind she knew. She knew that neither Rick Grimes nor Shane Walsh were honorable men. Both men only cared for Carl and Lori Grimes and would feed the rest of them to the walkers if it meant Lori and Carl survived. She knew Shane killed Otis, she could see the lies in his eyes and hear it in his voice, when he regaled them with their harrowing trip to the FEMA camp. Shane Walsh fed Otis to the walkers, just as sure as the sky is blue.

She knew that Rick left Sophia all alone and if it had not been for Daryl Dixon, the little girl would have died. Her deepest darkest secret however was that she knew Merle Dixon was not the horrible person they all painted him to be. The two brothers kept the little group of survivors fed. They shared the spoils of their hunting trips with them, without so much as a word of thanks leaving their ungrateful lips.

Just as Hershel and his family planned their escape, so did Andrea. She did not know where she was going to go or even if she would survive past the first night. She only knew she could no longer stay with this group. She had a feeling Hershel had been planning their escape and as soon as they left, so would she. She also knew she would not be welcomed in their group, she damn near burnt all her bridges behind her. Dale still loved her like a daughter, but she hurt him too much these past few weeks. She saw the pain in the old man’s eyes every time she sided with Rick and Shane.

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Rick and Shane went on a run into town, claiming they could not always send Glenn and Maggie into danger. Their real reason however was to search every building in the small town, hoping to find extra supplies, weapons and ammunition. Supplies they were not intending to share with anybody in the group not carrying the surname Grimes or Walsh.

Rick kicked a trashcan in frustration. Every damn building had been stripped bare. There was nothing left. The only place that had been untouched was the local watering hole.

“Hey man, you think Glenn and Maggie…”

Rick shook his head.

“Nah, if it had been them, they would have brought the supplies back to the farm. Other survivors must have swept through and picked the place clean.”

Shane steered Rick towards the bar. They might as well enjoy a drink, it has been ages since they even saw anything resembling booze.

The two men poured themselves generous portions of the best bourbon in the bar. The smell of the bourbon made them smile, all they now needed was ice and maybe a game on TV and they could believe the world did not end.

“Rick, tell me this… how many people do you know would bypass the bar, ignoring the booze? I’ve never met anybody who did enjoy a drink or two. Well, except that weird Johnson family… You remember them?”

“Yeah, but they were followed some weird religion. Didn’t drink, didn’t smoke, didn’t swear. They were damn near Amish. That gay couple did not drink either, but they were health freaks.”

“Oh yeah, what were those two little faggots names? Everything about them been prissy, even their names…”

The two men sat there reminiscing about the good old days. Remembering all the girls and women Shane had sex with, but conveniently forgot to mention one Lori Grimes. The teachers they hated at school. The weird religious Johnson family, with their beards and women wearing long sleeves. The high and mighty gay couple with their fancy names and their strange abnormal lifestyle.

Rick was wondering about the town and the way it had been picked clean. Every damn business and house had been stripped to the bones. The only place left untouched had been the bar. Could it be that Glenn and Maggie looted the town, leaving only the alcohol untouched, since it was no secret that Hershel Green did not drink and not a single drop of alcohol could be found on the farm.

But it did not make sense. They all looked at him and Shane for answers. Trusting in the two ex-deputies to keep them safe. The only people who left the farm on supply runs had been Glenn and Maggie and then only after Rick gave them permission and instructions to do so. Glenn was too timid to make even wipe his own ass without Rick’s say so. Besides, if it had been Glenn and Maggie, they would have brought everything back to the farm. Eager to impress him.

“I’ve been thinking. Glenn and Maggie would have brought the shit back to the farm, sharing it with everybody. I think that either another group swept through town, picking it clean and decided to leave the booze. When we had been without a permanent base, we did not drink either. Too dangerous throwing booze in the mixture. Or there is another group holed up on another farm close by and they have been sending people to town, stripping it down for their own needs. Now, if this is the case…”

Rick emptied his glass, before reaching for the bottle again. The stuff went down smoothly. They should empty the place before they leave. If Hershel does not like them drinking, tough shit. Soon enough he and his family would be living in the old farmhouse and Hershel can sleep in the dirt.

The two friends sat there, drinking their bourbon, discussing the possible threat of another group close by and how they were going to take care of the problem. They did not hear the car stop in front of the bar.

Dave and Tony grinned. This was the only place left in this shitty little town. For days now they had hoped to find the group cleaning out the town, but each time they lucked out. Yesterday when they rode into town, the place was still the same, all the buildings stripped bare of anything and everything of value. The only business left untouched had been the bar. When they drove up they immediately noticed the difference, the car parked right in front of the bar. Whomever was holed up in the bar, must be the stupidest sons of bitches on the planet. They made quite a few mistakes. The worst of their mistakes had been the fact that they not only parked in front of the building they were in, but were having themselves a little party.

Rick and Shane’s voices carried in the silence. Before, nobody would have noticed the two men drinking in the bar. But now? With the world so silent? Gone was all the background noises people used to complain about. Dave kind of missed all those noises. Before it irritated him, especially when he tried to sleep, but now? Now he missed his next door neighbor screaming at her kids to pick their damn junk up. He missed the car alarms, the sound of either speeding cars or their tires squealing as the drivers tried to stop in time. He missed the police sirens, ambulances with rushing by, the clanging of fire trucks. The silence just reminded Dave that he was somehow alive in a dead world. It reminded him that he did not like the man he turned into. If his Pa was still alive the old man would have kicked his ass the moment he realized what his only son had been doing.

Tony greeted the two men, trying to pretend to be their friend. Spinned a nice little yarn of them hailing from Washington, finding Nebraska desolate and dangerous, just looking for a safe place. Dave could see that the men, Shane and Rick, did not trust them. But then again, he did not trust them either. Maybe bad could sense bad? Because these two men reminded them of their leader back at their temporary base.

“So, you got a place you call home? Maybe holed up at a farm?”

Dave stood up and took a piss in the corner. Tony was still pressing for answers. If the fool does not shut his fucking mouth, Grimes and Walsh were going to realize they were only scouts for a much larger group. A group of locusts who would take everything in the path and leave nothing behind. A group who murdered all the men, boys and babies and loved fucking the women raw. He participated in many of those little fuck parties. Every man would go at the women and girls, until they could not get it up any more or until they raped the women to death. 

Just as Dave feared, Tony gave the game away. The stupid fuck did not even realize what he had done.

“You all must be holed up somewhere close and safe. We saw your ride outside. It’s empty man. No gear, no noting. These days a man can’t even take a piss without looking like he’s going on a safari.”

Tony realized what he had done and tried to draw his gun, but he was too slow. Those two fucks must have had training to draw their weapons so fast. Dave was still turning when Grimes and Walsh fired. Tony flying backwards, blood and brains splattering everywhere. Dave was fumbling with his own firearm and trying to shove his cock back into his pants when he heard the shots fired.

Rick and Shane could not decide where to look, at each other or the two dead men in the bar. 

“We should have kept one of these fuckers alive. Maybe they were telling the truth and it had been only them, but what if they were part of a bigger group? We have to get back to the farm. Lori and Carl is there all alone and unprotected.”

They made their way to the door and just as Rick touched the handle to leave, they saw a shadow. Rick silently locked the door from the inside and they both hid out of sight.

“Tony? Dave? You in there? Come on guys, there’s a lot of those dead fucks around. Stop messing around.”

Rick was undecided. Should he claim they found the two men dead in the bar? Should they keep silent and try and slip out of the back? Should they just start shooting and hope for the best. He needed to get back to the farm. He did not care one flying fuck about the rest of the people back there, but his wife and son were there. They were the only ones that really mattered.

Shane broke the silence, if Rick was too much of a fucking pussy to open his mouth, then he will let the man on the outside know what was going on.

“Yeah, they’re in here. Dead.”

The door rattled as the person on the outside tried to gain entrance. Rick rolled his eyes. Sometimes he wondered about Shane, the man could not keep his fucking mouth shut. He lost count as to the number of times he had to bail Shane out of trouble, since the man suffered from a chronic case of foot in mouth disease.

“Sorry about that, but they drew their guns on us. We had no choice…”

Rick tried to smooth things over with the person on the outside. Maybe they were lucky and it was just him, but what if there were more men on the outside. They were outnumbered and trapped like two rats in a cage. He looked towards the back, there must be a back entrance in this building, maybe they could make their escape while the person on the outside was still ranting and raving.

“Shane,” he whispered, “go to the back. We’ll slip out of the back door and be long gone before the fucker on the outside even realize we are missing.”

The two friends crept towards the door at the back of the bar. The silently opened the door, which led to a storeroom. It was now fully dark and they had to walk carefully and silently. It would not do if one of them crashes into something, alerting the man (or men) on the outside as to their location. Shane reached the backdoor first. Luckily the door had a small square window, letting in a bit of moonlight. Grabbing the handle, he started turning the key in the keyhole.

Shane nearly screamed like a little girl, when the door handle twisted in his left hand. Either the man at the front made his way back here, hoping to find the back door unlocked, or there were more men on the outside.

A whispered conversation alerted the two men on the inside that they were knee-deep in shit and sinking fast.

“Sam, Chris, stay with me. John go to the front, make sure Randall takes up position on the roof and tell Jack to make noise at the front. We are going to have to smash this door to shit and the moment we break through, you guys are going to shoot those front doors to shit.”

Rick and Shane back peddled towards the front. They were really fucked this time. It seems like there were at least three men at both entrances, if they were planning on shooting their way inside, they were also heavily armed. Rick knew their number was up. Shane only had a machete and his pistol on him and if he left with a full clip he only had ten bullets left. Rick had his machete strapped to his side and had only about seven bullets left.

Frantically looking around the room, they grabbed Dave and Tony’s guns, which only added four bullets a piece to their inventory. This bar must have been the only fucking bar in the whole of the United States where the barman did not keep a weapon stashed behind the counter. There was not even as much as a paring knife. Then again, they saw the drinks on offer, beer (Budweiser, Coors and Miller, not one can or bottle of the Light variety either) and whiskey (Jim Beam and Jack Daniels). It was not one of those bars that served little fancy drinks filled with umbrellas and fruit. Chances are that if a woman ever stepped foot inside of the bar, the men inside would all suffer from heart attacks.

Just as they started to lose hope, Rick noticed the trapdoor. If they were really lucky the space would be big enough for them to hide in and the men on the outside would not see the trapdoor. If they were insanely fucking lucky, the trapdoor would lead to an escape route and they would be able to escape the town with their lives intact. Since Shane was taller and sported a stronger built than Rick, he picked Rick up. Rick opened the trapdoor and crawled inside. It seems as if their luck was holding, it was not a crawlspace, but another room. Maybe this used to be a Speak Easy back in the day, Rick reached down and helped Shane into the hidden room. They just managed to close the hatch behind them when the shooting started.

At least the floor was solid, no creaking, giving their position away. With any luck the noise the idiots on the outside caused would draw in walkers. They were safe inside and could wait the mess out. They could hear the men entering the bar, shooting the place up, and seemingly destroying every damn bottle in the bar. They were getting frustrated because it seemed as if their quarry had escaped them. The group that entered from the back blamed the group from the front and with the latter doing the same to the front. 

“What the fuck man! I just know it, you bunch of pussies let the men inside the bar escape, not caring that they murdered two of our own in cold blood.”

Jack and Chris started trading insults and punches. Both blaming the other for their failure to catch the men in the bar. They were getting bored, and it had been a long time since they had a little of fun. Sure there was a few women at camp, but they needed to be protected. Their women cooked the food, washed their clothes and cared for the children. But every now and again, they would find a camp with one or two females, it did not even matter if they were pretty or not, and they would have their fun with them.

They had a very simple plan. One or two would enter the camp, strike up a conversation, lull them into a false sense of security. Before they even knew what was happening, the rest of the group would roll up, tie the men up real nice and tight and force them to watch as they have their fun with the females in the camp. It did not matter if she was really old or really young, they did not care whether she was pretty or ugly. They used the women over and over again and they did not even mind into what hole they shoved themselves in, it was all about their pleasure. They would not stop until either they were physically unable to get aroused or the girls had died. Afterwards, they would strip the camp of every valuable item and leave. 

But this time, something went wrong. They just knew there was another group holed up somewhere, it was supposed to be easy. The plan was simple. Send in two scouts, cozy up to their victims, get an invite to their safe haven and soon enough it would be party time.

“Ah shit man, I told you. There’s too many stinkers out there. And the noise only drew their attention. We got to get the fuck away…”

Jack took a peek outside. More and more of the stinkers were crawling from the woodwork. They have about five minutes before the whole town is filled with them and he sure as shit did not plan on becoming their next meal. They have two choices, waste valuable time searching the shithole for the men who had been inside the bar and get overrun by the stinkers or cut their losses and go.

“All right boys, head out. I know we all are craving a bit of fun, but I would rather let those fucking douchebags get away than dying in this shithole of a town. Live to fuck another day.”

A scream from the back alerted the group to the fact that their window of escape narrowed down to fucking yesterday. Running from the bar, Jack quickly calculated their odds. The stinkers would go for Dave and Tony, but what they really craved was fresh meat. He had to buy time and Randall would be their sacrificial little lamb.

Jack quickly took aim, Randall was the farthest away from their cars, he did not need to kill the boy, only wing him, make him bleed. Let the stinkers turn towards the smell of fresh blood. Besides, nobody really cared for the boy. Too much of a crybaby. On each fucking run they had to listen to his whiny voice, all snot and tears. Enjoying the girls, but crying for hours afterwards, trying to convince himself he did not enjoy it, that he did not crave it. The little bastard was even worse than them, because the younger the girl, the more thoroughly he enjoyed himself and the harder he blubbered.

In his haste, Jack completely missed Randall, but the little pussy nearly pissed his pants, lost his footing and fell from the roof, impaling himself on a fence. In a way that was even better. He was stuck on the fence, screaming his head off, drawing more of the stinkers towards him. In their rush to get away, they failed to notice the two men on the rooftop of the bar.

Rick and Shane watched as the teenager fell from the roof. He could not have fallen worse if it had been planned. He struck the roof of the shed next to the fence, but his left leg was impaled on the fence. If the shed had been high enough, the boy would have been relatively safe. But as it was, he was stuck. More and more walkers poured from the woods, drawn at first by the gunshots and now drawn by the boy’s terrified screaming.

Rick knew they had time. They could help the boy, but if they helped the trapped boy, they were stuck with him and he would only endanger them. As it is they did not have enough ammo to fend of walkers trying to save his sorry ass. And even if they did manage to save him, keep him alive long enough until they have reached the farm and Hershel could save his life, the boy would still pose a problem. He would burn through their medicine and food. He would have to be kept under lock and constant guard until he either proved himself a good workhorse or they would have to execute him, upsetting the sensible nature of Hershel Greene and his family.

So he and Shane stood on the roof, watching the screaming teenager, watching as the first walker reached him, grabbing hold of his trapped left leg, watching as more and more walkers reached the boy. They did not even move a muscle as the first walker managed to get a tight grip on the boy’s leg and take a big bite from the bleeding leg. Fifteen minutes later and all that was left of Randall was blood and a chunk of meat dangling from the fence. It took the better part of the night for the walkers to leave the town and allowing Rick and Shane to escape.

“Man I’m hungry. I hope by the time we have reached the farm Carol had the decency to drag her sorry ass from her bed and have made breakfast.”

TWD TWD TWD

It was still quiet on the farm when Rick and Shane pulled up. It did not bother Rick that Lori and Carl were still sleeping, they needed their rest. But what pissed him off was the fact that nobody was keeping watch. Nobody started the morning fire. Carol was not busy preparing breakfast. Even the farmhouse seemed quiet. Usually by this time in the morning Dixon would be walking towards the woods, checking his traps.

Shane grumbled as he started the fire. It was not a man’s work to make coffee. What good was Carol if she could not even get up and make coffee? No wonder her husband slapped her around. Lazy bitch probably deserved it. Needed the strong hand of a man to remind her to clean the house, prepare meals, and perform her womanly duties.

The smell of coffee produced Lori, but still nobody else. Rick could not even hear T-Dog’s snoring.

“Lori, where the hell is everybody this morning?”

Lori just shrugged, “I don’t know. Sleeping maybe?”

With a growl Shane ripped T-Dog’s tent open. There was nobody inside. In fact there was nothing inside. He next went to the tent Glenn and the Dixon boy shared. Nothing. No snoring Korean, no inbred little Redneck, nothing. Andrea’s tent was next. It was also empty. Swearing Shane ripped open the RV’s door, nobody was inside, Dale’s clothes and books were missing.

By this time, Rick was already halfway to the farmhouse. He knocked on the front door, but nobody answered. 

With a growl and a “Fuck this shit” he kicked the door open. He went from room to room, even searched the attic and basement. There was nobody there. The place was empty. Those stupid motherless fuckers left his wife and son unprotected on the farm? They snuck away in the middle of the night like a bunch of thieves?

At first the three adults had been pissed, but soon they realized it meant they could move into the farmhouse. They will just have to make it work. Maybe they would snag a few survivors, rope them in to build a wall around the property and work for their safekeeping. Who needed Hershel Greene and his family? Who needed Dale, T-Dog, Andrea, Carol and her brat, Glenn and last but most certainly not least Daryl fucking Dixon?


	9. Chapter 9

Andrea kept an eye on Rick’s group as well as Hershel’s group, because make no mistake there were now distinct groups living on the farm. It saddened Andrea that she was neither part of Rick’s group nor Hershel’s. She could have been part of Hershel’s group. But her actions alienated her from Dale, fuck it damn near alienated her from her own sister. 

She had not seen her parents for the past ten years. She spent every Thanksgiving alone in her apartment, getting drunk and high. Christmas was spent in the arms of yet another lover who never made it past the three month mark. New Year’s Eve she stumbled from one party after the other flying high. How she never ended up with either a baby or a venereal disease or even both, Andrea never knew.

She pointedly ignored every invitation to spend any of the major holidays with her family. They were no longer part of the fast paced roller coaster ride that was the life of Andrea Harrison. She told herself that her parents were too old and too conservative. They had been stifling her and holding her back from reaching her full potential. They would never understand that she did not believe in marriage, that she did not want kids. They were old prudes, closet homophobes and closet racists. They would never approve of any of her lovers. Michael had long hair and painted his nails, DeShawn was black. Belinda was female. 

It had only been now that she realized she was not ashamed of her parents, she had been ashamed of herself and the choices she made. She was ashamed to admit that she had a substance abuse problem. If it could be ingested, inhaled or injected, then Andrea had tried it and had most probably been hooked on it. She never practiced safe sex and Andrea lost count at the sheer number of unknown lovers her body had entertained over the last decade.

She was angry when her parents forced her to take Amy on the road trip. The only way they had been able to convince her, was when her parents promised to foot the bill. Andrea made damn sure to make reservations at only the most expensive hotels along the way. She did not want to spend time with her whiny little sister. She had not been thinking she now had time to get to know her own sister, all she could think about was that she would be forced to stay sober. She could not have Amy report back to the old farts that she enjoyed a drink or two every night. Amy would have squealed harder than a stuck pig if she saw Andrea using any of the recreational drugs. And she would have their parents and the whole county praying for her the moment Amy reported Andrea and her lovers.

The first week had been awkward and the sisters sat in damn near silence in the car. They rarely spoke to each other, since they had nothing in common. Amy wanted to become a kindergarten teacher. She loved the colour pink. She called their parents Mummy and Daddy. She still believed in mermaids. Amy took great delight in things like sunset or sunrise, a quaint red and white barn, an old couple walking hand in hand down the street, she melted when she saw an awkward teenage boy give a red rose to a blushing teenage girl, she cried when she saw a six year old brother give his ice-cream to his younger sister, when the girl stumbled and dropped her ice-cream in the dirt.

Amy’s dream of becoming a kindergarten teacher made Andrea want to scream, did her sister not yet realize, they were free? They no longer had to become nurses and kindergarten teachers? Women were now allowed to be professors, doctors, scientists, lawyers and maybe even one day President of the United States? Andrea hated the colour pink, it was demeaning to women to associate the colour with girls. She had been calling their parents Mother and Father the moment she turned eighteen. When Andrea saw a sunset, she would start missing happy hour at the closest watering hole. Sunrise reminded Andrea of yet another miserable day stuck in a car with Amy. The red and white barn reminded her of the small mindedness of most white Americans, living their live of privilege and prejudice. The two ancient old geezers walking hand in hand made her throw up in her mouth, with their nauseating, disgusting and inappropriate public display of affection. She wanted to slap the teenage girl to wake her up, the only thing the boy wanted from her was sex. She wanted to throttle the little boy, because he obviously pushed his little sister, making her drop her ice-cream and only gave her his so that she would not tell their parents on him.

It had been during their second week on the road when the world died. At first Andrea had been bitter and angry. She was not angry about her parents being most probably dead, they were old and would have died sooner rather than later. She had been angry because she would no longer be able to purchase the high grade drugs from her dealer back in Miami. She would probably never again see any of her lovers, as she was stuck with her prissy little sister. Back at the quarry she had been the most vocal about the women doing all the traditionally female jobs, completely missing the point that she did not know which end was the dangerous end of a gun and would most probably have shot her own face off.

Slowly but surely Andrea got to know her own sister. She slowly realized that her sister was innocent, not naïve. She was soft and feminine, but not weak. She was funny and smart. She wanted to become a kindergarten teacher because she loved children and loved interacting with them. She believed in mermaids, because she believed the world needed a little bit of magic to ease the harshness of reality. She loved the colour pink because it made her feel pretty and the colour made her glow. Sunset reminded her of another day gone and sunrise of the promise of a brand-new day with endless possibilities in front of her. The old couple walking hand in hand reminded her that love never dies, the teenage boy handing a single rose to the blushing girl reminded her that romance was not dead and forgotten and the older brother giving his ice-cream to his weeping sister that chivalry was not dead and that family should always protect and help each other.

So when Andrea saw Hershel and his group slip away from the farm, she realized they were making their escape. They were leaving, never to return. She saw the look on Hershel’s face. The old man realized he was never going to see his farm again. But he was abandoning his home to ensure the safety and survival of his children and loved ones. Andrea’s heart broke in pieces when she saw the look on his face, before he left. It had been Daryl who slipped behind the old man, hugging him tightly. It was the trust the little boy placed in Hershel that made him turn his back on his farm and the small graveyard that contained the remains of his deceased family and loved ones.

Andrea was both happy and sad that they had been able to make their escape. She wished she could have been part of their group, but knew she would never fit in with them. They were all good people, they did not deserve to be saddled with a broken bigoted fool like herself.

An hour later, Andrea shouldered her backpack before leaving the farm. Lori and Carl were still snoring in their tent. She made sure to follow the route back to the highway. Once there she will hopefully be able to steal a car and find a group who have never heard of Andrea Harrison and her stupid mistakes. 

Andrea had to walk next to the road, hidden in the bushes. It will not do if she encounters Rick and Walsh while she was trying to make her escape. She wanted to make a clean getaway. Maybe one day she will cross paths again with Hershel and his group and beg their forgiveness, but until then, she had to fix herself.

Andrea only lost focus for a second. She forgot. Her old life was gone, not that she really wanted it back, but still. The old world was gone. There were no more police officers patrolling the streets. Help was no longer one push of a button away. Just one second and Andrea was on her back, trying to save her life as the rotting corpse above her snapped at her throat. She could not reach her knife as she needed both hands to keep the walkers teeth and claws from her body.

Andrea saw her life flashing before her eyes as she was losing the battle. She was going to be ripped to pieces. Devoured in a ditch on the side of the road. Nobody will find her until long after she has turned and killed Lord knows only how many innocent people. Making peace with the inevitable, Andrea supposed this was her punishment for the part she played in the death of Merle Dixon. Andrea closed her eyes, softly pleading, “Please forgive me.”

TWD TWD TWD

Hershel took a last look back at his farm. He always expected to die in his bed and be buried on the farm. It was the house he had been born in. The farm he grew up on. This old homestead saw the best and the worst of Hershel Greene. It stood silent witness to his Dad’s abusive behavior. For all but ten years of his life Hershel lived on the farm.

His sisters fled the property one after the other, marrying before their sixteenth birthdays, just to escape the old man’s vile temper. Hershel himself had been fifteen when he escaped the farm. He came to the realization if he stayed either his dad was going to beat him to death or he was going to murder his own father in his sleep. For three years he drifted from one small town to the next, washing cars, picking fruit, washing dishes, anything to stay alive. On the morning of his eighteenth birthday Hershel joined the Army.

The next six years formed him into the man he was today. He bled for his country and even though he had been scared during his time in Vietnam, he reached a certain maturity there. The only thing he did regret was allowing himself to become dependent on alcohol, but everything else made him a man. Up until the moment the dead started walking, Hershel believed he saw the worst of mankind. He learned that things were not really always as black and white as one would like to believe.

He learned that just because a person had a different skin colour from yours, it did not automatically make him a bad guy and just because he shared the same skin colour as yours it did not make him a good person.

Hershel made friends with some of the black soldiers, men he stayed friends with until the day they passed away and there had been some he just could not stand. It did not make him a racist, it just made him human, because his dislike of the person had nothing to do with the colour of their skin and everything to do with the fact that either their personalities did not match up or that man had been one of the bad seeds.

Hershel Greene never mixed with the bad seeds, irrespective of the colour of their skin. And Hershel saw many a bad seed. Men he completed basic training with, men whom he believed he knew. How can you not know a man once you puke your guts out next to each other in basic training, peel a mountain of potatoes together, listen to their teary call home, missing their mothers. And later he met the real men. The kind of man who would cut off the ears of the dead soldiers, bragging about the number of kills they made. Those men who would invade a small village shooting every man and boy, raping every woman and girl and bashing the heads of infants in, just because they believed they could. Those were the kind of bastards that gave soldiers a horrible reputation, making people back home believe they could spit on the returning soldiers.

After the war he came back to America, but he did not come home. He graduated high school, intent on becoming a veterinarian, promising to spend his life helping and healing animals. To leave death and destruction far behind him. The morning he received his high school diploma was the same morning his mother contacted him. His father had died.

Hershel packed his bags and came home. He farmed and he became a veterinarian. The farm saw the wedding to Josephine. It stood silent witness to the first five years of their married life. The good times and the bad times. The times he came home drunk, so drunk that Josephine banned him from their marriage bed, the few times he had been so drunk that Josephine even banned him from the house. The farm saw him on those drunken nights howling at the moon, dressed only in his boots.

The farm saw the last drink Hershel ever took, it was the night before Josephine told him she was pregnant. Hershel did not want to become his father, he could not stay sober for the sake of his darling Josephine, but he stayed sober for his little Maggie. It saw the last painful years of Josephine’s life, by the time cancer took her, his darling was nothing but a skeleton.

Against all odds the farm hosted the courting and wedding to Anette. The birth of Beth. It saw tragedy when first Shawn and then Anette fell to this horrid virus. His mother, Josephine, Anette, Shawn and Otis were buried there. He will never be buried between the small space between Josephine and Anette.

Today he was leaving them all behind. He was willingly leaving because he loved his children. Because he grew to love Glenn and his stupid little moustache. Because he was absolutely besotted with his instant grandson. He wanted to ensure his children and his new extended family grew old together. It was hard enough that they had to lose sleep, worrying about walkers. They should not have to worry about two men suffering from delusions of grandeur.

Daryl took Hershel’s hand and giving it a squeeze.

“It’ll be fine. You’re a tough old man.”

Hershel smiled at the boy, ruffling his hair.

“Yes I am.”


End file.
